


I wanna be found (by you)

by Chiisanafukuro (makuro)



Series: You're the one I wanna grey with [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Enby Pidge, Galra Courting Habits, Hunkade, Hurt/Comfort, I just needed to do this after The Season We Do Not Speak Of, M/M, Multi, S8 fix-it, SHEITH - Freeform, allurance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 00:22:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17294120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makuro/pseuds/Chiisanafukuro
Summary: Five years have passed, and nothing is wrong, but nothing is right.





	I wanna be found (by you)

**Author's Note:**

> HUGE THANKS TO nautilicious and colieb2183 for looking this over!!! I girl couldn't ask for better betas.
> 
> Title is from "Adore" by Amy Shark, a very Sheith song imo.

“Keith, you’re sick.” 

He burrowed deeper into his bed. Being the head of the  Blades and the son of the newly wed Daibazaal Prime Ministers provided him the opportunity to get a truly indulgent bed. Between missions he’d made great headway in merging with the piece of furniture, despite his mother’s pestering. 

“Keith.”

He rolled to his side and peeked up at Krolia. She her hands were on her hips and was glaring down at him like he was her wayward kit, not a twenty-six-year-old man. “What?”

“You can’t keep going like this.” Her gaze softened a bit, detailed with worry. “You’re in pain, and depressed.”

“I’m just tired from missions,” he growled. He ignored the prickling behind his eyes and the empty feeling in his gut. He burrowed deeper in his bed careful not to shred the blankets he was burritoed in with his claws. He did his best during missions to keep his Galra traits at bay. He was the humanitarian face of the Blades, covering for the deep ops work they still did. He had to still look like, Keith, the Black Paladin, not Keith the hybrid. He didn’t expend energy on it once he was tucked back out of sight.

“Because you run yourself ragged on them as a distraction. Honestly, I liked it better when you were sleeping with anyone who was drunk enough to forget who you were.” 

“Mom!”

“Well!” She sat down on the bed and brushed a hand through his hair. It was tangled at the ends. Kolivan kept pushing him to braid it. He didn’t want to. Looking presentable was what got him into beds of a lot of pretty Galra. Sex hadn’t helped a thing. He didn’t want anything anymore except to devote himself entirely work and sleep. 

“You have to tell him.”

Keith’s veins turned to ice. “No.”

“He’s not married anymore. It was all over the news. ‘War Hero Husbands Split—Shirogane returns to service.’ You need to talk to him, Keith. You’re just going to get sicker.” 

“M’not sick,” he mumbled, turning away from her. “I’m just tired.” 

Krolia sighed, but left, informing him she and Kolivan would love to see him for dinner. It was their first anniversary in a week, and they’d be leaving for it the next day. 

Keith said something affirmative, but fell asleep anyway. He dreamed of blinding purple lights flashing over battle and starlit grey eyes turning away. 

 

“Takashi.” 

Curtis said his name like a whisper, like morning dewdrops. Soft in a way that held no weight, just a cool sort of comfort. It’s what made Shiro fall in love with Curtis in the first place. He was respite and calm in the storm after the war. 

Now his voice had something else to it, a hint of melancholy, a thread of concern. The way he said his name now felt like letting go. It had for months. 

“Takashi, look at me.” Curtis reached his hand out, his left hand, where there was still an indentation on his finger, but no flash of gold to match. 

“Curtis… I…” Shiro let Curtis take his hand but couldn’t look at him still. This wasn’t what he wanted. For them. For himself. 

“Takashi.” Curtis tilted Shiro’s chin up gently with his right hand. “It’s okay. You were never made for this life. We thought… _I_ thought that you had put service behind you. And I don’t mean battle, that isn’t your calling. Please, please don’t mistake what you’re doing for stepping back into battle. It isn’t. You’re going back to what you’re good at. _Leadership._ And that means being out _there_.” Curtis nodded up to the heavens. “I can’t follow there. No. I won’t. I had my fill with Haggar’s war.” He squeezed Shiro’s hand tighter. “And you and I have run our course. You needed a break, and I was a place to do that. I needed something secure, and, well,” Curtis snorted, “look at you. Anyone who doesn’t feel secure around you is probably living in a bank vault.” 

Shiro laughed. Looking at Curtis felt like peeling off a scab a day too soon. It hurt like hell, but there was some relief there in the pain. “I wanted us to work, Curtis. I’m so sorry.” 

“It isn’t just you, Takashi.” He rubbed his thumbs over the backs of Shiro’s hands. “Shiro, we tried, and it isn’t working, for either of us. I still love you, and a part of me always will. But I’m not going to keep fighting when there isn’t something here we both actually want to fight for. I’m making this decision too, Shiro.” 

“I want to fight,” Shiro said miserably. He did. He _should_ , but there was something missing inside of him when he thought about trying to hold onto settled life. The Garrison wanted him back. Sam and Iverson wanted him, had been begging him. Shiro couldn’t say no; if he stayed stagnant like he had been, he was going to implode. 

“Not for me,” Curtis said quietly. There was pain in his eyes, but not malice. No jealousy, no anger. “It’s not me you’ve been fighting for, Shiro, and we both know that.” 

Shiro opened his mouth but there was nothing to say. They did both know it, even if Shiro didn’t want to admit it yet. Those feelings and memories were something to unpack at a much later date. Not saying goodbye to his ex. 

Curtis let go of his hands and stood. “Well, if you find anything else of mine that I forgot, or just… something. Shoot me a message or just send it along?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I will, I’ll be packing up to get back on the Atlas in a couple weeks anyway so, yeah.” Shiro looked around at the empty condo he and Curtis had shared for the last three years. Curtis packed up his stuff even before they had signed the final papers six months ago. Shiro was thinking about moving, with the job offer, and Curtis stopped by to get the very last of his things not picked up yet. 

“Take care of yourself?” Curtis held his arms out for a hug. 

Shiro stepped into his embrace, saying goodbye to his attempt at a peaceful life. “Thank you, Curtis, I mean it.” 

“I know,” Curtis leaned into him, soaking it up one last time. He pressed a soft kiss to Shiro’s cheek, and was gone. The door closed behind him, leaving Shiro alone in a dark, half-empty condo. 

He ended up on the couch, beer in hand but not really drinking it. The bottle was something to hold when he had nothing else to hold onto. Loss swept over him, for the marriage, for all he lost in the war, for the warped and shattered dreams, he wasn’t sure. It just consumed him there in the dark as he wept. 

 

Pidge stormed into the conference room, slamming the door behind them and slumping their body over the table. “I’m going to kill them all.” 

Hunk was already waiting for them. He was visiting Earth for the first time in months. He’d tried to surprise Pidge during their class and got redirected to wait for them here. “You’re not going to kill them.”

“Oh, _oh_ I am going to kill them. I’m going to make Chip turn into a sociopath robot, you know like in those old horror sci-fi movies? And he’s going to stalk and eviscerate every one of those cadets.” They lifted their head just off the table to glare at Hunk. It was worse when it wasn’t behind a set of glasses like it had been for the last few years. Pidge had stopped wearing them once Matt started again. It was like something clicked for the family, a final acceptance of them coming home. 

There was also the shearing of ‘Matt’s Mane’ as they had dubbed it, resulting in no less than two classes of cadets sobbing at the loss. Hunk had a hunch Colleen had ‘accidentally’ snipped some of it when taking a plant sample with Matt’s help and then he had to clean up the rest of it. 

“Why are you still teaching that class? I thought that you recruited new professors?” Hunk sat down heavily in a chair. They were supposed to head back to one of his flagship Earth restaurants, but with Pidge like this it would just mean wine everywhere while they gesticulated and screamed about idiot cadets. He texted Shay that they would be late. 

“We did, but they still want the Advanced Quintessence Integration class taught by a former Paladin or Altean.” Pidge sighed and leveled themselves back up off of the table. “I just want to stay in my lab inventing. Can you come teach it?”

Hunk shook his head. “I can’t, the business is booming and I getting called to cater every political event that happens from here to the outer systems. I didn’t think my post-war pet project would grow like this. Shay and I keep talking about passing it off to Sal permanently but… notoriety pulls more people in, I guess. It’s that whole ‘we want Voltron’ thing all over again. They want a former Paladin.” 

“They always want a former Paladin,” Pidge grumbled. “Shiro’s been coming in a lot though,” they said thoughtfully. “I wonder…”

“What about Lance? He loves teaching.”

“He won’t leave Altea,” Pidge said. Their face pinched in concern. “He hasn’t for the last year. He’s not… I know that being there and continuing her work is something he says he needed to do but, he’s been pulling into himself more. I don’t think he’s doing well.” 

“We should go see him,” Hunk said. “Just seeing him on the anniversary isn’t enough. Plus with only Coran out there with him, it’s not enough.”

“Mmm,” Pidge turned and looked out the window. “Is this how you imagined it, Hunk?”

“Imagined what?” 

“The end of the war, us, here, doing what we are?” 

Hunk considered, his mind fleeting back to when he didn’t know if they were going to make it out of everything alive or not. “No,” he admitted. “Not quite like this, no.” 

 

There was a light outside of his window. 

Lance rolled over and watched it dance along the outline of the curtains. It would happen sometimes. He would see dazzling brightness, or light motes around the corners of his vision. Coran said it was him settling into his new Altean abilities. 

Ryner said it was him coping with trauma. 

Veronica said nothing but held him while he sobbed. 

He would work in the gardens and the plants would be luminescent in front of him, Allura’s voice a murmur in his ear as he worked. The children he taught would glow, white hair and dark skin flashing in the corners of his eyes. The first year or so he chalked it up to grief. It was similar when his Abuela had passed. Seeing her in random faces, dreams about her being alive and whole. 

Instead of fading, though these visions got stronger. The whispers in his ear got louder. Now he simply laid in his deteriorating state, living half in this world and half in the haze of vision and barely-heard voices. Slowly everyone around began him let him be when his eyes glazed over and his marks pulsed with dull light. 

There was a light outside of his window. 

It was the middle of the night on Altea and there was a bright, unyielding light outside of his window. Brighter than when it was on the edges of his vision. It was actually casting shadows, like it had before, when the lions left. 

Lance left the bed in a trance, opening the double doors to the small terrace outside of his room. The cool of the patio tile hit his bare feet and it was the last true sensation he registered. 

Blue was coming down slowly to land on the grounds ahead. She roared in Lance’s mind, the sound echoed by four. When Lance looked up he saw their lights, higher in the atmosphere, but here nonetheless, waiting for Blue to make first contact. 

Lance stumbled forward. When Blue finally hit the ground, he ran. It was an ugly, fumbling run that had him nearly tripping onto his face several times. But Blue was lowering her head, light emanating from her great maws. A speck of darkness hovered in the center. 

Lance screamed, a name ripped out of his lungs my force. The light slowly faded and the shadowed figure stepped forward. Once, twice. A stumble. 

“Lance!” 

Lance dashed and caught her just as she lurched forward, arm outstretched to catch herself. “Allura?” He was shaking so badly he couldn’t hold them both up and sank to the ground with her. She was still in her armor, her hair still up, the battle marks still splashed across her. “Allura, Allura I can’t… how…”

“I’ve been trying for so long, Lance,” she said. “I needed the Lions and it was so far… Lance I’m so sorry, I kept trying but…”

“Allura, no it’s… you’re here,” he whispered and pulled back. Her aquamarine eyes were bright and bursting with tears. She looked spent, more than she ever had before, but it was the imperfections, the creases of exhaustion and the smudge of sweat that told him she was real. For the first time in years it felt like the film over his eyes was dissolving. “You’re here.”

“I’m here. I made it, Lance. I came back to you.” She sniffled, trying to stem the sobs that were now wracking her body. Or maybe they were Lance’s. It was hard to tell. “Honerva-- she… she and the others gave themselves completely so that I would be able to come back. They… oh _Lance_.” 

There were shouts all around them, the Lions roared in unison, the sound bearing down into his bones. Lance understood none of it. 

Allura was in his arms. 

Allura was here. 

Allura was _alive_. 

 

The Lions were back. That was the official word that was being spread through the universe, the Lions had come back and while there was no threat came with them, further information would be disclosed after investigation. 

This caused no shortage of speculation on behalf of the media, but luckily no one guessed the real reason behind their homecoming. 

Keith kept his hood up as he stalked through the terminal on Altea, his mother at his elbow, both of them in Blade uniforms, the leadership markers hidden in their bags. The fact that they were there at all was being kept to a need-to-know basis only. 

“Do you really think it’s the Princess?” Krolia asked as they approached the shuttle to the city. 

Keith shrugged. His guts felt like their were tearing themselves to pieces about this. “I don’t think Lance would be able to mistake her. Or Coran. Not to mention we all felt the Lions return, and she was _on_ Blue. That’s hard to ignore.” 

His mother said nothing and stepped onto the shuttled, Keith behind her. 

Altea had flourished in the last eight years, the Alteans from the colony restoring the planet to its former glory alongside the Olkari who had been welcomed to the planet  as well . Refugee camps were dotted along the continents making Altea a home for many after the war. 

“How many will there be?” 

Keith went over the numbers in his head. “Fourteen or seventeen, depends on how many Holts. But we’ll be in the private wing of the palace. Pidge is already there, they set up security.” He had to view this as a mission or else he was going to crack. The annual dinners had been short enough to bear, but who knew how long he’d have to be near Shiro now, with this. He was doing everything in his power to keep it at the back of his mind. 

“You’re shaking again.” 

_Fuck_. 

“Keith, you have to see the opportunity here—”

“Until we have more facts this is a mission, nothing more.” 

They rode the rest of the way to the palace in silence. Krolia was radiating frustration but the closer they got to the city and the Castle Capitol building, the less Keith could care. Seeing the white spires set his heart into overdrive. Allura was in there. _Allura_. 

When they got off and made for the entrance to the Castle they were stopped by Chip and escorted to a side entrance. Following the robot through the hallways made Keith itch all over in dread and anticipation. He wasn’t ready for this to be a good thing, too many of those had come with too high a price, even now. 

Chip sped up, sensing their need to see what the hell was going on, and burst out back into a huge sitting room. Double doors were wide open to a huge terrace that Keith recognized as Lance’s quarters. Chip stopped and gestured for them to go on to Lance’s bedroom. 

Keith’s eyes darted up to the open doorway there and froze. Behind him Krolia gasped aloud. 

Shiro, Pidge, Hunk and Coran were all sitting or standing around Lance’s bed. Lance himself was in bed, over the covers, cradling an awake but very weak-looking Allura. 

“By the gods,” Krolia whispered. 

Keith couldn’t move. “How?”

“Honerva,” Allura said. Her voice was soft, she sounded beyond tired. “And I know what you’re thinking, Keith. Shiro already voiced those concerns. We have checked. I am myself.” 

Keith dropped the mask and leapt into the room, bodily shoving past Hunk to stand beside her. “It’s you,” he gasped, heart clenching. 

“It’s me. Hello, Keith. Your hair has gotten quite long,” Allura giggled and reached out to touch the end of the messy ponytail it was shoved into. 

“We all keep telling him he needs to braid it,” Lance said. He pressed into Allura and kissed her temple. 

Keith reached and grasped at the hand that was playing with his hair. It was warm, dry, and the grip back wasn’t as strong as he knew it should be. It was Allura though, real and alive. 

“So, what are we going to do with that statue?” Hunk asked. 

The tension in the room broke and they all pealed into laughter. 

“I am so glad to be home,” Allura said, leaning into Lance. 

“We are too, Princess.” Coran was sniffling, trying his best to hold his composure. Keith wondered how much he had been breaking down since her arrival. Even the mice, curled into her lap and chirping away, were clearly emotional at the return of their friend. 

In the end it was their core group alone that had come. The MFE pilots and the rest of the Holts, with Slav, would be there the week after, as Allura was slowly reintroduced to higher-ups in the Alliance. How to present her to the public was a question they would answer there. For now it was their own found family, together and healing with the arguable matron of the bunch. 

Keith had ended up leaned against the doorway, watching them all and spitting out commentary only rarely. He couldn’t look at Shiro, every time he did the ache in his chest threatened to split open. Eventually, and much sooner than normal, the exhaustion overtook him and he excused himself to his quarters. Allura demanded a hug before he left, and he complied. Throughout the day they had shifted seats and this took him in almost direct contact with Shiro. The proximity burned behind his eyes, and when Allura let him go he bolted. 

He only just made it to his own very unused quarters in this wing of the palace before collapsing on the floor. 

 

“I should go check on Keith,” Krolia said not long after he’d left. She squeezed Allura’s arm affectionately and exited brusquely, like Keith was in dire need of her. 

“What have I missed?” 

Shiro looked back to Allura from where his eyes had been following Keith’s mother. “What do you mean, Allura?” He frowned. “I thought Lance caught you up on everything.”

“He didn’t tell me why Keith won’t look at you, Shiro,” she retorted evenly. It was terrifying that even in her state she could rip you open with that glare. 

“I… um…”

“He got married.” Pidge said. They were clearly annoyed and Shiro braced himself for the lecture that was sure to follow. It wouldn’t be the first time. “To an admittedly nice guy, but still.”

“Curtis is literal sugar. He’s so sweet I think I get a cavity whenever I talk to him,” Lance said. “No offense to your ex, Shiro.”

“None taken, it’s more or less why he called it on the marriage. We didn’t fit, and honestly shouldn’t have gotten married but after everything—”

“Wait.” Allura held up her hand. “You _got married_ to someone other than Keith?”

“Look I don’t know why everyone insists that Keith and I are… were… that we,” he groaned and dropped his hand. “We aren’t, and we never were.”

“Only for lack of trying,” Hunk snorted. “But that’s why, Allura. And even though Shiro is divorced now, I’m not getting my hopes up on them figuring it out.”

“Not with Keith still pissed off to hell,” Lance said shrugging. “It’ll take at least three more decapheobs for him to get over it.”

“At least. Not to mention Shiro is a total disaster for him so—”

“I am in the room!” Shiro shouted. 

Coran patted his arm. “We know, we’re all just hoping that if you hear it like this, you might actually do something about it.” 

The conversation waxed back to something that wasn’t Shiro and Keith’s complicated relationship and he was grateful. 

Keith avoiding him all day had hurt more than he thought it would. At the anniversary dinners they had slowly drifted until Keith only spoke to him out of courtesy. He’d expected that here too, but this cold shoulder was new. There had been a part of him that had hoped, especially after talking with Curtis for the last time, that this could be a chance to repair things between them. At least be friends. That possibility was looking less and less likely now. 

They all headed to bed once it was clear Allura needed more rest, Lance seeing them out. Hunk and Pidge were still buzzing, both talking about how they needed to use up their energy in the onsite lab or something. Coran looked tired, but better than he had in years. Shiro was gearing up for what he thought would be his own night of true rest for the first time in a while. Thoughts of a soft Altean bed were interrupted by a fierce Galran mother stalking down the hall toward them. 

“Hunk, I need you with me in the kitchens. Now.” She grabbed Hunk’s arm and started dragging him down the hall with her. 

“Kro-Krolia! What’s going on!” 

“Just come with me,” she growled and hauled him off. 

“Wonder what that’s about,” Pidge breathed, watching Hunk get manhandled. 

 

Krolia all but threw him into the kitchen. “We need to make a broth, and it’s going to probably take all goddamn night but you may be the only person in the universe who could help me do it.” 

“Krolia, what’s going on?” Hunk asked. He wanted to help but he’d never seen Krolia this frazzled. He didn’t know that she could _be_ frazzled. 

“My son is a stubborn idiot.” She was ripping through cupboards for pots and pans. “We need these herbs,” she threw her datapad on the counter. “And if you can find a bone from a Klannmru’l we’ll be in business.” 

“Is Keith okay?” Hunk asked, tentatively looking over the list. It was a mix of herbs and vegetables mostly native to both Altea and Daibazaal, but a few he’d only seen in some of the outer reaches of this solar system. 

“No, he is sick. And refuses to do anything to get well.” She filled a large pot with water and slammed it on the stovetop. “This may be a way to keep his strength up before we really lose him.”

“Lose him!” Hunk turned around. “How sick is he?”

Krolia sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Very. We were both hoping that he wouldn’t exhibit signs during the trip, as he’s been able to carry out missions without trouble. I should have known better though, I should have _seen_ what this would do to him.” 

“What _what_ would do to Keith?” 

Pidge and Shiro were standing in the door. Pidge had been the one to speak and they walked in and looked over the datapad. “What is all of this?” 

“Keith is sick, apparently,” Hunk said. “And making this might help.” 

“What is he sick with?” Shiro asked, voice thick with concern. 

Krolia looked at Shiro without any kind of filter. Her disdain and anger was clear as a bell on her face. So was her determination. 

“Screw the soup, Hunk. You, come with me.” She stalked away again, leaving the kitchen in chaos and Shiro now trailing behind her. Hunk briefly wondered if Shiro was about to be killed. 

“Well, since we’re here. Wanna make cookies?” Pidge grinned and leaned over the table. 

“And by make, you mean I make and you get in the way while I cook, right?” 

Pidge went to the burner and pulled the giant pot off. “I’ll clean up Krolia’s panic and then I’ll watch.” 

“Helpful. And she may have reason to panic. Keith wasn’t looking good at all today. Did you see how pale he was?” 

Pidge crammed the pot back under the cupboard. “He’s always pale, Hunk.” 

Hunk started to get out flour and the closest thing to butter Altea had. It reminded him of making cookies with Ryan on The Atlas. Maybe they’d get to do that again when Ryan got here. Hunk missed hanging out with him. “He is always pale, but this was that kind of sallow look, you know? I hear outside of missions no one sees him anymore, like ever. I think he might really be sick, Pidge.” 

“Well, then we really need to make cookies to try and cheer him up. Because I’ll bet you Krolia’s only noticed because she’s his mother. What is he sick with anyway?”

Hunk shrugged. “She didn’t say. Chocolate or Marot Berry?”

 

Keith was shivering under the covers. This hadn’t happened before. The exhaustion, the aches, his head feeling fogged and drugged down were common. But this shuddering through his frame was new. 

He could barely keep his eyes open, either. One minute he was on the floor, barely conscious and unable to move. The next he was being dragged up into his bed by his mother, his limbs like lead in her hands. 

He was there now, blankets and sheets twisted around him as he tried to find some comfort in the softness. Nothing worked. He managed to only get out of the upper part his Blades uniform off before he gave up, shivering there on top of the bed. 

The door flew open some time later, he didn’t know how much, but his mother was back. 

“Old Ones, _Keith_.” She came over and eased the suit off of his torso and arms. “Get a shirt out of his bag, and shorts.”

Someone else was in the room but Keith couldn’t identify who. He flexed his hands and felt claws snag on the sheets. His throat was parched so when he tried to say something all that came out was a pathetic croaking sound. 

“Jesus, what’s wrong with him?” 

_Shiro_. 

He wailed, it wasn’t loud given how weak he was at the moment, but the plaintive noise was well heard. 

“Shit, Shiro. Unless you want him naked.” 

“I-I, no, thats—”

“Then shirt and shorts. _Now_.” 

He was stripped unceremoniously by his mother and jammed back into softer clothes. She did her best to pull his hair back away from where it was sticking all over him but it was no use. The tangles were a lost cause. 

“I’m going to get a washcloth to help him. Sit.” 

A weight pushed the bed down next to his hip. “Oh, Keith,” Shiro said softly. Keith keened when Shiro’s left hand made contact with his arm. Shiro jerked his hand back. “Shit, Keith. Krolia what’s wrong with him?” 

A wet cloth was being dragged over his forehead and down his arms. Krolia said nothing while she cooled Keith down. The shakes were leaving his body, in their place he ached. Muscles cramped from clenching and unclenching. He felt like he could slip into unconsciousness and never come out again. 

Krolia got her hands under his armpits and hauled him semi-upright. “You take him.” He was dumped into a chest then, Shiro barely catching him. The contact send sparks over his skin at first, but with Shiro’s first punched-out breath he relaxed. The fight and anxiety slipped out of him and he was gone again, sleep claiming his spent body. 

 

Keith was deadweight in his arms. It took a good deal of effort to get his body cradled comfortably, but he got there. “Krolia, please, what’s happening?” 

Krolia was sitting next to him on the bed, her hand stroking Keith’s arm. The frantic agitation had left the moment Keith fell asleep against Shiro. Now she looked sad and scared. 

“I didn’t realize he was this bad,” she said. “I didn’t think he could even get like this, being half human. But he wasn’t raised with us, he doesn’t know how to not…” she sighed. “Shiro. I am going to tell you something, and you’re going to stay silent, and hold my son while I do. Do you understand me?” 

Shiro gathered Keith just that little bit closer and nodded. 

“Galra typically mate for life. When we find someone who is compatible, we love fiercely. Part of the reason Zarkon did what he did for Honvera was because she was his mate. Keith’s father was mine, and when I found out…” she swallowed tightly. “We are taught from a young age how to handle these emotions and keep them from negatively affecting us. It is difficult, but an integral part of our culture. 

“Keith was never taught how to do this, and even though over the last few years I have tried to help him I fear his human side and his lack of Galran rearing has crippled him in this matter.” She took a deep breath and locked eyes with Shiro. “He’s heartsick, it’s the only translation I can come up with. More accurately he’s slowly losing his will to live because his mate rejected him.” 

Shiro felt his blood run cold. He closed his eyes and willed words to come out around the lump in his throat. “How long?” 

“Since the engagement announcement, I suspect.” Krolia sniffed and turned to look at the wall. “I understand that you can’t materialize feelings for my son out of nowhere—”

“I love him.” 

The look she came back with could have seared his soul into barbeque. “You _what_.” 

Shiro started babbling. “It’s taken me so long, _too_ long, to come to terms with the feelings I have for him. They grew out of a fondness for a young man I was trying to help, into a friendship I cherished more than anything to… I didn’t know how to deal with it. He kept telling me I was like a brother. And there was so much in between all of that with the clone and my death and—”

“Stop.” Krolia held up a hand. Her expression was unchanged. “You can explain all of that to _him_ when he is awake. I don’t want any explanation, just straight answers. You love my son?” 

Shiro swallowed. “Yes.” 

“You want to be in a relationship with him?” 

“ _Yes_.” The response tumbled out of his mouth before his brain caught up to the question. Images of moments with Keith flashed in front of his eyes. Even this, holding Keith in his arms like a lover. Subconsciously he had known, but the floodgates were open now and he _wanted._

He didn’t have a right to want though. Not after everything that had happened between them. Keith was _sick_ because Shiro couldn’t figure his own damn feelings out. 

“Will you court him, as a Galra would, and help him recover?” 

“Yes,” he breathed. It felt like he’d made a unbreakable oath. 

“Get comfortable,” she said, leaning back against the wall. “You’re going to stay here with him while I explain what you need to do.” 

 

A tickling sensation across her nose woke her. She sneezed, the noise jostling the mouse that had shifted in its sleep, whiskers poking at Allura’s nose. It squeaked quietly and shifted away. 

She sniffled and moved the blue mouse back even closer to its companions. When they were settled she looked to Lance. He was curled in front of her, mouth open a little hair falling across his face. He’d gotten older, his features more chiseled, his eyes heavier in their stare. She didn’t know she’d been gone so very long. She knew it would be a decapheob or more, but so many had passed. Coran had told her about Lance withdrawing into himself during that time. Guilt swirled in her at the thought, but there was nothing for it. She’d come as fast as she could. All they could do now was heal together. 

She reached out and traced a finger along his cheekbone, where his marks were. She wondered if he’d discovered the power in them. Somehow she knew he hadn’t, that his heart wasn’t ready to pull the power she had given him. She would show him though. Later. They had time now. 

Her ministrations brought him out from slumber, eyes blearily opening. Like they had each morning since she arrived they widened and took her in slowly, like she was an apparition. “Hi,” he murmured, reaching out to touch her cheek. 

“Hi.” She leaned forward and kissed him. Chaste at first, but as he woke she let it morph into something slow and deep. Lance reached out and pulled her closer, his hands traveling her back and over her leg. 

When they broke for air he rolled so she was half laying on him, her face pressed into his neck. “I missed you so.”

“I missed you too,” he said. His right hand came up and embedded itself in her hair. 

Allura snuggled in closer, her hand drawing nameless patterns on Lance’s chest. “I can’t believe Shiro got married. I can’t believe you all _let_ him.”

Lance shifted a little beneath her. “He looked happy. He said he was happy and after everything… I know I wasn’t in a place to judge or see clearly. Allura, I don’t think any of us were if I’m being honest.”

“You aren’t yourselves,” she murmured. “I don’t quite know you all anymore, you’ve changed so much, and never how I thought. Pidge teaching and training? Not to say that they aren’t a good teacher if need be, but I don’t think that’s their forte. And I thought Hunk would want… _less_ fame? Instead it seems like he’s been snared in the spotlight. And you,” she lifted up to cup his jaw in her hand, “my love, I see you now and it’s a small flame reignited. Which means it went out and Lance, I—” She choked, hot tears bursting out. 

“Allura, no, come here.” He pulled her back down and cradled her against his chest. “Allura you did what you thought you had to. And, in the end, it worked. We knew the risks of being paladins, what it meant to bear that mantle. I could have tried better to move on, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to. Keith doesn’t either, it’s something we share.”

“Yes, well,” she snuffled, her voice warbling with the tears still streaming down her face. “I’m here now, and we all know Shiro loves Keith with his whole heart so that will fix itself, certainly.”

“We should have stayed with you.” 

Allura pulled back to look at Lance. “What?”

His face was drawn tight, tears welled in his eyes but he wasn’t letting them fall. “We should have stayed with you. I think we were all in shock, exhausted, I don’t know what happened at the end there for us to fall apart like we did. But we did. We should have stayed with you, Allura.” 

“Lance, no, I would have never let—”

“We’ve all talked about it.” The graveness in his voice settled cold in her bones. “Individually and as a group. We should have stayed by your side.”

“I wouldn’t have let you. I would have sent you back. You needed to be _here_ , to rebuild. Look at all you’ve done Lance!”

“We fell apart!” He shouted. His whole frame was trembling with emotion. “Yes, the Universe is whole but our _family_ crumbled. We broke it the moment we let you go alone. Allura, I’m so sorry.” Lance let the tears fall. 

“I let you let me,” Allura said. They were both a mess. The mice were awake now, squeaking in concern and running around them. “We don’t always come out of war with the best decisions on our shoulders. My father sent the Lions away thinking it would stem Zarkon’s destruction. I took the burden of helping Honvera seal reality back together. You all carried on like you thought you had to, and now… Lance, now we are here. Together. And whatever choices we made, we can take those regrets and turn them into action.”

“Okay.” Lance took a long shuddering breath and wiped at his nose. “Okay. I think the action we need to take right now is a long hot bath.”

Laughter bubbled out of her chest. “Yeah? A bath?” 

“Yeah, a bath, come on,” Lance rose, pulling her up with him. “And then lets go raid the kitchen. I bet Pidge has conned Hunk into making cookies by now.”

 

Galran courtship wasn’t as complicated as Shiro had thought that it would be. The images of ritual combat or feats of strength were replaced with something devastatingly simple—be there for your mate. Prove you can provide. Demonstrate your ability to _support_.

“Zarkon and Honvera were actually a famous example of courtship,” Krolia had said. “He gave her the lab she worked in. He provided with more and more tech, often before she could ask for it. He _paid attention_ to all of her, needs big or small, and met them evenly.” Krolia got a wistful look on her face. “I remember doing the same for Tex. He didn’t realize what was happening until he was sipping coffee one morning and just looked up at me and said _I don’t remember the last time I made coffee_. And I told him it was because he hated the morning. He was always so grumpy when he woke up. So I made the coffee to make his morning easier.”

In his bed, cold without the weight of Keith against him, Shiro sat. He’d been sitting there since he and Krolia had left Keith in the early hours. He knew he wasn’t going to sleep at all. Instead he sat and _remembered_. 

Keith offering to train when Shiro would surreptitiously rub at his flesh arm. Keith keeping everyone in line after Shiro had screamed through the night, the thin wall between their rooms hiding nothing from Keith. The rescues. The silent, perfect support at his back in and out of battle. 

Shiro rubbed a hand over his face. It wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed. No, he was just a coward. The word _brother_ was a way to quantify feeling with nowhere to go. He knew that, every queer person on earth knew that. But he wasn’t going to question it, not when they were in the middle of a war. Keith had done enough soul searching alongside battle. Shiro wasn’t going to add to that, and Keith didn’t owe him that explanation. Keith didn’t owe Shiro _anything_ after all that lay between them.

After Curtis, hindsight was a bitch. He couldn’t pinpoint when he fell in love with Keith, just that he was, and had been, for a very long time. The one thing he could count on in life was Keith. That had been a simple fact since they had met. Everything Keith had to give, Shiro took. He took and took and took until there was nothing left to do but give, and he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t reciprocate. How could he? That devotion was sacred, and all he had to give back was a broken body and fragile psyche. Self-pity and fear had told him that. He knew better now, at the eleventh hour. 

“Today,” he said to himself. “Make it right starting today.” 

There was nothing to do about getting any sleep. Coffee and something to eat was the next best option. 

He wasn’t surprised to see Allura and Lance in the kitchen so much as he had to realign his reality to Allura being here at all. 

“Good morning, Shiro,” she said. She was leaned into Lance, her weariness a brand. “You look just about as rested as I feel.”

“I was up with Krolia. Keith is sick.” He wanted to say more but the reason was stuck in his throat. 

“Hunk said.” Lance reached around Allura to grab his mug. “Is it some mega Galra cold or something?” 

Shiro shook his head. “Ask Krolia,” he croaked. “She’ll be able to explain it better.” He helped himself to the eggs that were still in the pan on the stove and the too-strong coffee that Lance had surely made. “How are you feeling, Allura?”

“Tired,” she said with a yawn. “But slowly coming back to myself, I think. I don’t know how long it will take for things to be normal again, but I’m so very glad to have you all here with me. Thank you, for coming.”

“Like we wouldn’t have,” Shiro said. “You’ve always been our backbone.” 

Pidge came stumbling in without a word or a glance in any of their directions, beelining it for the coffee. Hunk followed shortly after, clearly having been awake for a while. 

“I figured eggs was an easy thing to have out to eat as we all got up. Anyone seen Keith yet? Krolia already got breakfast and went for a run.” 

“Not yet,” Shiro said. He automatically got up to start making a plate for Keith. “I can take him something. I don’t think he’ll be feeling up to coming to eat. Not after…” he faltered in getting a plate out. “He wasn’t doing great last night and I don’t know how this sickness works.” 

He felt all of their eyes on him as he made up a plate and a cup of coffee. Questions burned into his back that none of them asked. He didn’t know if he’d have the answer if they did. 

He left with the plate and not so much as a glance at the rest of them. 

The door loomed in front of him. Keith was still there on the other side, hurting, suffering because of him. The plate of warm eggs and a cup of coffee seemed insufficient. He needed to lasso a moon, bring stars down and dot them along Keith’s skin. Something that made up for all he’d been selfishly shoving away. 

He knocked with the side of his foot and pushed the door open. The room was as it had been the night before. Keith was curled on the bed, clutching a pillow to his chest. His breathing was uneven, Shiro could see that even from the doorway. He closed the door with his heel and let the glow from his arm socket guide him in the room. 

Keith barely stirred when he set the plate and coffee down on the bedside table. “Hey,” he whispered, reaching a hand out for Keith’s shoulder. “There’s some food if you want to try and eat.” 

Keith groaned but rolled a bit, slitted eyes squinting up at him. “Shiro?”

“Yeah,” Shiro swallowed. “I brought food.”

Keith’s eyes fluttered closed and he turned back into his pillow. “Don’t want any.” 

“You should eat. Keep your strength up,” Shiro said. He rubbed slow circles into Keith’s shoulder with his thumb. Keith’s long fingers still ended in tapered claws. Shiro was sure that if he looked the fangs would be there too. 

“Don’t wanna.” Keith’s shoulder twitched away from Shiro weakly, not fully dislodging his grip. 

Shiro stopped rubbing his skin but didn’t remove his hand. Krolia had said contact was a good quick fix for this, and Shiro wasn’t going to let any opportunity slide. Keith could shove him away when he was strong enough to. “Just a little bit. Not for me, or your mother, but Allura. She wants to see us, and you need to be able to get up to do that.” 

Keith grimaced but pushed up slowly. His hair spilled around him, tangled and longer than Shiro had really realized it was, now out of the pony tail. It curtained him and his movements, spilling down onto the bed in inky tendrils. He wants to run his hands through it.

Keith moved sluggishly, like his whole body was tender and sore. Something he didn’t do even after he’d been beaten to hell in battle. “You gonna sit and watch me eat?” He griped once upright.

Shiro let go of his shoulder and sat next to him on the bed. “I am, actually. I want to make sure you do.” 

“When did you start caring so much?” Keith took the plate and dutifully shoved a bite into his mouth. A flash of canines proved Shiro right. The heat that coiled in his gut at the sight was shoved down into a dark box with a huge lock.

“I’ve always cared, Keith,” Shiro breathed. “Even if I haven’t been good at showing that to you.” 

Keith grunted and kept eating. He made each bite a grand challenge, stabbing up a forkful and cramming it into his mouth. Shiro wouldn’t be surprised if he was counting the bites. Coffee was consumed the same way. Measured sips until the mug was clear. 

“There,” Keith said. “I ate. Now let me sleep.” He titled back down, ready to hit the pillows. Shiro debated hauling him back up but thought better of it. Rest, if he could actually rest, may be what he needed. 

He cleared the plate and mug. “Thank you,” he said, leaning down over Keith. “Rest up. Hopefully we can see you this afternoon.” He paused and leaned closer. “We’re all worried about you. Please let us help.”

“You can’t help this,” Keith whispered, curling tighter in on himself. Claws plucked at the bedsheets. Shiro could see little tears where Keith had already punctured the fabric. 

Shiro closed his eyes, willing himself not to cry. “I know. But I—we’re still going to do our best.” He brushed the back of his knuckles over the curve of Keith’s spine. “Rest up.” 

Luckily Coran was in the kitchen when Shiro got there to drop off the dishes. His next move was miles easier then. “Coran, where is spare bedding kept?”

 

“He’s still sick, then,” Pidge mused. They were with Hunk in the lab, tinkering with Chip for updates. His Altean was getting better but the algorithm for niceties was still off. 

“I don’t think he’s going to get better soon,” Hunk said. “At least not in a few days. Did you see the look on Shiro’s face? Something is really wrong.” 

“But what? He was fine the day before. Even when he was so beat up he could barely move Keith didn’t curl up in bed. You remember when Shiro found that fucking gash from the Trials.” They shuddered. The screaming match between them had been epic. Keith had been so out of it, so worked up over his heritage and proving himself he’d nearly let the damn thing get infected. Shiro had noticed him favoring the arm when they went to spar, and it had been Shiro who bodily dragged him into the showers to clean it out before sending Keith up to a healing pod. Pidge was sure that Shiro washing out the wound was retribution for not saying something sooner, the way Keith had howled as he did it. 

“I really would rather not remember that. We could hear him all the way up in the kitchens. I’ve rarely seen Shiro, and I mean _our_ Shiro that mad.” Hunk fiddled with the tools he was sorting through. “I don’t know what it is, but since we’re all going to be here for a while I’m sure we’ll find out sooner or later.” He put the tools down. “Man, I missed this.”

“Missed what—damnit!” Pidge wailed, realizing there was an error earlier in the line of code. “Quiznacking Altean…”

“Us, doing this, being in a lab and just tinkering away from everything. I feel like I’m always _on_ now.” Hunk sighed and set the tools he wanted to use aside. The hover bike Lance usually used needed some tuning up. “I don’t know how long I’m going to last in that position.”

“Who can take over though? It’s like we both said before, people want _Paladins_ ,” Pidge sneered at the word. “It’s why I’m teaching brats instead of high level exclusive classes. Reel ‘em in with the Green Paladin!”

Hunk snorted. “You know, I don’t think I’d mind the brats so much.”

“Deal, job is yours, say the Garrison needed you more than a catering company.”

Hunk picked up a nut and threw it at them. “It is _not_ a catering company.”

Pidge smirked, “sure, sure.” 

The door slide open behind them with a hiss. Lance walked in, a chipper step in him that hadn’t been there in years. Hunk warmed at the sight, finally seeing his friend somewhat back to his old self. 

“What are you two fighting about?” Lance asked sitting down at the bench with them.

Pidge squinted down at the screen in front of them, still trying to find the errors in the code. “Hunk wants to quit catering.”

“Aw Hunk, but you love cooking,” Lance teased. 

“One, _not_ a catering company, you both know that. And two, Lance you know just as much as Pidge does that I’m not cut out for being spotlighted like this all the time. I’m getting tired of it.” Hunk moved his new toolbox over to where the hover bike was parked. 

“I know, big guy,” Lance said. “There’s got to be someone you can pass it off to, you know, the smaller events? Still head the big ones, but that way you can transition.”

“Yes, transition into teaching the first and second year cadets, please.” 

“I’ll try,” Hunk said. “How’s Allura doing?”

“Sleeping right now,” Lance said. He reached out to meddle with something on the desk and Pidge slapped his hand away. “I don’t know what she did out there, but she’s completely drained. I don’t think she’d be able to even communicate with a Balmera right now.”

“How are we going to tell the Universe about her?” Pidge wondered, moving back from their screen. “What do we even say?”

“She came back,” Hunk shrugged. “We tell them what happened. Honvera took the greater sacrifice that let Allura come back to us.”

“Yeah, but then we have to try and explain _what_ happened all over again. You know how the rumors are around the Universe about what happened.” 

“Oh yeah,” Hunk tapped a wrench against his lips. “I like the one where it was all staged. You know like that old moon landing conspiracy from Earth.”

“Exactly, and even more off-the-wall ones than that exist. And then saying Honvera, aka _Haggar_ was to thank for it?” Lance shook his head. “No, we need something else, something simple.”

“I’d say five years under cover, but doing what?”

Hunk shimmied down under the hover bike. “You’re both worrying about it too soon. We can deal with it next week when _everyone_ is here and hopefully Keith isn’t sick.” Out of the corner of his eye Hunk caught Lance’s foot tapping. “What is it, Lance?”

Lance audibly swallowed. “Allura knows what’s wrong with Keith.”

 

She found him right where she suspected she would. Lance thought she was still resting more than likely, but she wanted to talk with Shiro alone about this. If Lance knew she was up he’d be glued to her side again.

“You’ll want the ones toward the bottom,” she said mildly. 

Shiro spooked and whipped around. “Allura! I, I just needed, you see, Keith, he—”

“The ones at the bottom.” She knelt down around Shiro and picked up a set of sheets. “They’re reinforced fibers specifically for Galra or other beings with sharper edges to them. But,” she handed them up to Shiro who took them gingerly, “still incredibly soft.” 

Shiro fingered the sheets. He looked miserable. “Thank you. I may take a couple of sets, just in case. He’s…”

“Heartsick, yes, I know.” Allura stood, resting a hand on Shiro’s floating arm, partially for comfort and partially for support while she got up. This plaguing weakness was getting old quickly. “That much is obvious from the way you’re running around trying to take care of him and Krolia’s agitation at his illness. It’s a rare thing for Galra to succumb to anymore. After hearing of your… nuptials, however, it was easy to put it all together.”

“I’ve never felt like more of a failure,” Shiro admitted. “I love him, and I let this happen.”

“You and Keith have a complex, deep relationship. That was apparent from the moment I met you. Toss in a war, a death, a clone, and a desperate fight to bring you _back_ —I would think that your relationship would get even further complicated.” Allura rubbed her hand over his arm, the metal warm to the touch. She noticed that the model was newer, slimmer than the arm he’d borne into battle. “What matters now is that you’re doing something about it.”

Shiro nodded, but his face didn’t change. Allura could only guess at the guilt swirling in his head. 

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he said slowly. “It was… there was so much between us and I was scared of losing him, scared of misreading things, scared of what would happen if we did try. In the wake of… while you were gone we had to start rebuilding. He was on Daibazaal, being the leader I always knew he could be and I… I needed a break. I needed time to figure myself out again. Curtis was there for that. He was safe and easy and I let myself fall into it.

“But we weren’t meant for each other. Curtis was a season in my life. A moment of respite. We both realized that over a year ago. We tried counseling but it didn’t help. The fleeting thing we had was gone. And he…” Shiro laughed ruefully. “He realized what I couldn’t long before all of this. He hinted at it as we started the divorce process. I didn’t catch on until one night, when I was begging for us to try one more time, he looked at me and said ‘ _You love me, Shiro, with all of your heart. I’ll never doubt that. But I’m not the person who’s in your soul. I’m not the person you_ came back for _._ ’” 

Allura smiled, remembering the moment Shiro had revived and Keith falling into him. “He wasn’t. I can understand now, how it happened. Thank you for telling me, Shiro. I think I may be a little less angry with you about it.” She patted his arm. 

Shiro snorted. “Well, that makes one of us.” 

“Take the sheets to Keith. It may yet take him some time to come around, but the gesture is there.” She knelt down to grab some more sets. “And Krolia will appreciate it, which will go a long way with them both.”

“Thank you, Allura. At this point I’ll do anything to help.” Shiro gathered up the sheets in his arms, holding them close. “I feel so stupid. All these years pushing it away, and now that I’ve owned up to my feelings they’re just _there_. Full bore.”

“Lance once told me a line from an old Earth book, ‘I fell in love slowly, and then all at once.’ Perhaps that’s appropriate here?” Allura ventured. 

Shiro smiled, it was still sad around the edges, but not nearly as crushed. “I don't think that’s the whole quote but… yeah, like that. Thank you, Allura.” He leaned down, kissed her on the cheek, and left with his haul. 

Allura watched him go, praying that the universe would let the two heal. 

 

Proximity made it better and worse all at once. When Shiro was near, touching him, breathing in his space, the ache lessened. Space, while Shiro was still here, felt like a vice around his heart. 

Keith gasped into the sheets, keenly feeling the distance and need to be near his mate. It was like something was slowly scooping out his guts and leaving them just attached enough to watch them beat out a slow death on the slab. 

The pain faded only when exhaustion overtook him and he slept again. He wanted to leave. He wanted to crawl his way back to the ship and go to Daibazaal. The Wolf was there with Kolivan right now, else he’d call for him to teleport them into the hanger so he could jet himself out of here. At least at home the pain wasn’t acute. At home he didn’t have to _feel_ Shiro so near. 

The door to his room cracked open and he wanted to cry. “Go away.”

Shiro walked into the room anyway. “I brought new sheets,” he said. The softness in his voice felt like honey down Keith’s spine. “I can change them out now if you want. These ones are looking a little… shredded.”

Keith flexed his hands and heard the fabric tear more. “Why, so I can fuck up more of the palace bedding?”

“These um, don’t tear as easily. They’re made for people with claws. Allura helped me pick them out.” 

He was right by the bed. Keith couldn’t decide if he wanted to curl into himself and be stubborn, or try and get up. 

He shifted and his body tensed in protest. If he _could_ get up. “Mnnggg.” 

Shiro shuffled around the room and came back. His floating arm tucked itself under Keith’s side, his hand spreading across his chest to lift him. His other arm came down around Keith’s legs and he pulled him up, the bedsheet tangled around Keith’s limbs coming too. 

He was gingerly deposited into the arm chair in the room. The sound of Shiro stripping and remaking the bed lulled him into a haze. He curled up in the chair, hugging what was left of the other sheet to himself while Shiro worked. 

He didn’t register Shiro picking him up again, just the brief sensation of being carried before getting placed into cool, soft sheets. 

“Better?” Shiro was trying to untangle the old sheet from around Keith’s legs. 

“Mmm.” Keith nuzzled into the new sheets. His claw snagged on the edge of the top sheet, but there was no telltale fraying sound. No puncture and rip. “This is nice.” 

Shiro made a triumphant noise in the back of his throat when he pulled the last of the old sheet from under Keith. “Right. Do you need anything else? Are you getting hungry again?” 

Keith shook his head minutely, but Shiro must have seen it because he didn’t press further. Instead he smoothed the new bedding down over Keith, making sure he was well tucked in. “All right, comm me if you do. I’ll be here.” Shiro squeezed his shoulder, thumb rubbing back and forth over it. He pulled his hand away slowly, letting the touch linger down to fingertips. The sensation settled over Keith like a lullaby and he fell asleep before the door could shut behind Shiro. 

When he woke again his mother was sitting in the chair, her expression unreadable. 

“Shiro brought me Galra-proof sheets,” he murmured, burrowing deeper. 

“I can see that,” Krolia said. “How are you feeling?”

Keith rolled over and curled in on himself. He didn’t want to answer. He didn’t want to admit that his insides still felt raw and that all he wanted to do was sink back into sleep. 

“I’ll bring you something to eat,” she said and left. 

Time passed in a haze before the door opened again. He knew it wasn’t Krolia, there was too much noise accompanying it. He was able to pick up on the cologne now, the soap, the cacophony of smells that heralded Shiro. 

“Hey.” His voice was still that soft tone that banished the shaking in Keith’s core. “Hunk made some soup and steamed buns. Thought you might want some.” 

The smell hit him and suddenly he wanted it. He was starving. He tried to sit up on his own but his arms didn’t want to cooperate. Everything in him felt weak and sluggish. 

A dip in the bed, an arm around his shoulders and he was upright. He was tucked into Shiro’s side a little bit to stabilize him, but he was up.

“This okay?” 

_God, yes_. Keith nodded and reached for a bun. Shiro used his arm to bring the tray over their laps. Keith wanted to clap when Shiro didn’t spill the soup with that one-handed stunt, but he was too busy savoring the steamed bun. 

“Fis ish fuhhking goo.” 

Shiro chuckled. “What was that?” 

Keith swallowed. “This is fucking good. I don’t think I realized how hungry I was.” 

“You barely ate this morning,” Shiro said. “And when was the last you ate before that? I didn’t see you eat anything yesterday.”

Keith considered. “Before we left Daibazaal.” 

“ _Keith_.” 

“I get busy, Shiro. And I’ve been under the weather lately so it hasn’t… look, you don’t have to mother-hen me. I don’t know where this is coming from—”

“I care about you.” 

“Then where the fuck have you been the past five years?” The venom in his voice surprised even him. The energy for it came out of nowhere but left him almost too tired to eat. 

Shiro stiffened beside him. He didn’t say anything, and Keith kept eating. He wasn’t going to shove off the wall of warmth and comfort before he had to, but he wished it was someone else holding him up. 

“I didn’t mean to.” Shiro said when Keith was starting in on the soup. “I thought you were doing so well on your own. Being the leader I always knew you could be. And then when things got busy with recovery I… It wasn’t my intention to slip away, Keith. And I’m sorry I let it happen.” 

Keith stirred the soup. It was mostly clear with chunks of meat and some kind of homemade noodle floating in it. Altean chicken noodle. “Why did you and Curtis split?” 

Shiro shifted uncomfortably, but Keith didn’t regret the question. He had to know why, and after everything between them, that at least was something Shiro could answer for him. 

“We weren’t working anymore.” Shiro swayed away a little. “Curtis was… he was good for me in the aftermath. Dating him was simple, easy. I didn’t have to _think_ around him. I needed that for a bit. The marriage wasn’t the best move—we rushed into that, we both see that now. But I think I needed something that wasn’t what my life had been for all those years. Just a moment to pretend to be normal.”

That settled like a stone in Keith’s gut. “And did it work?”

“Did what work?”

“The break, and trying to be normal. Did it work? Did it help?” He wondered if the stone could sink past his stomach and pull him down through the floor. Bury him in the soft earth below. 

“I pretended it did.” Shiro said it so quietly Keith nearly missed it in his misery. “But it wasn’t me. It was me trying to be what I thought I should have been. But it wasn’t who I am.”

“And now?”

“Now?” Shiro shifted back, crowding into Keith’s space again. “Now, I think being here with you all is… it’s coming _home._ Having us all together. I think it’s a good start to living my life as me again.” 

Keith lifted the spoon to his mouth. “Good.” 

 

Pidge took in the information. They looked at it from all angles. Tried to piece out where it had turned into this. They promptly decided both parties were terminally stupid.

They said as much. 

“They’ve been through a lot, Pidge,” Hunk said. 

“Yeah, together. They’ve been through a lot _together_. Don’t even try and act like we all weren’t freaked out when Shiro started pulling away. Or worried to shit when Keith let it happen. And now look at them!” Pidge shook their head. “No, no I’m going to be supportive but my sympathy here is limited.”

“It’s not like we ever really confronted them about it,” Lance said. He picked at the edge of his shirt. 

“Maybe _you_ didn’t. I tried to talk Shiro out of proposing to Curtis. He wasn’t having it, brushed it off like I was too young and never in love so how would I know? Blah blah blah.” They turned Chip back on, waiting for the final reboot to update his system. “Of course we’re going to help them out, because they’re our friends. But this _could_ have been avoided if they weren’t both utter boneheads.”

“I mean, they have a point there.” Hunk shrugged at Lance. 

“Yeah, I guess.” Lace picked up a data pad without really looking at it. “It’s just, Keith could really get sick from this. Krolia said it’s what made Zarkon go into the Quintessence field with Honvera in the first place. Fear of losing his mate.” 

“Seems to be a theme with Black Paladins.” 

“Hunk!” Pidge threw a wrench at him, which he dodged. 

“What! Think about it. That kind of devotion to the person you love, _and_ being Galra to compound it? Makes sense to me.” He rolled there rest of the way out from under the bike. “It should run fine now, Lance, just don’t accidentally ditch it again? I still don’t get _how_ you ditched a hoverbike, by the way.”

“Not important.” Lance put down the datapad. “Guys, we just gotta do everything we can to help them figure this out. Allura said if Keith was already this weak it was pretty bad.” 

“We could always do the lock them in the room thing?” Hunk suggested. 

“I don’t think that would help. They’d either end up in a screaming match with Keith clawing his way out or they’d angry fuck and then both feel so guilty afterward they wouldn’t talk for another three years.” 

“Which could kill Keith. I don’t think we can use anything tropey here Hunk, much as I’d like to.” Lance leaned back and crossed his arms. “We just need to make them comfortable, I think. Convince them both that it’s worth fighting for. And that they really do love each other.”

“You know, you’re probably right. Keith isn’t going to believe a lick of this even if Shiro carved his heart out and presented it for dissecting.” Chip accepted the updates, so Pidge sent him off to his usual duties when they were here at the Palace. Namely spying on the tourists just in case. “Problem is, Keith is gonna see through us right away.” 

“Does that matter though?” Hunk came to stand next to them, wiping his hands down. “Didn’t we get into this mess by beating around the bush? I think we should just all start being honest. Look, Allura came back to us, and that means we’re… I don’t know about you, Pidge, but I know you’re with me here, Lance. That everything just feels right again. Or like it _can_ be right again.” 

Lance’s leg bounced. “You’re not wrong. We were missing a piece to the puzzle, and it left us all in places we didn’t really want to be in order to cope. We need to take this moment and not mess it up.” 

Pidge rubbed their eyes. “Grief is shit, man, it fucks everything up.” 

The lab door hissed open, Coran and Allura walking in. 

“I knew we would find them here, Princess!” 

“Yes, Coran, finding Hunk and Pidge in a lab was going to be my first guess. Not so much you, darling.” She stepped into Lance’s space and eased herself down onto his lap with grace. Pidge didn’t miss, however, how quickly she did it, trying to hide her own weak state. Lance put his arms around her for support immediately. 

“I was talking to them about Keith. How we could help.” He leaned up to plant a soft kiss on her cheek. 

“We think we need to all just talk to him. I don’t know where Shiro is on his own feelings, but Keith is going to need a lot convincing that Shiro isn’t acting out of guilt.” Pidge squinted. “Assuming Shiro knows what’s going on?” 

“He does.” Allura sighed. “He’s been appraised of Galran courting habits by Krolia. At least that’s how it seems with how he’s been doting on Keith today. He brought him lunch a little bit ago.” 

“Oh the soup? Good. I hope it’s close enough to the earth standard for comfort,” Hunk said. 

“I’m sure it is. And I think you’re right, Pidge, we need to be straightforward in support. Keith will have trouble not seeing this as something other than Shiro realizing his feelings.” 

“Has he, though? Because the last time I tried to talk to him about it I got shut down,” Pidge said. They were still a little bit bitter about that conversation. Years of knowing someone and to be told they couldn’t see through their two friends clear as a bell? It had stung at the time, tainting the wedding ceremony. “I mean, he tried to have Keith as his best man before he asked Lance.”

“He has,” Allura said. Her expression said she hadn’t heard about the best man fumble. “I spoke with him a little while ago.” 

“You’ve been up?” Lance flipped into pure concern. “Are you doing okay?” 

“It was only for a little bit, Lance, and I went right back down to read and rest afterward. You don’t have to mother hen me at every moment, you know.”

“Yeah but I’m gonna.” He adjusted his grip to hold her closer. “Well, at least Shiro gets it now. That’s a start.”

“This is still gonna be hell,” Pidge said. “You’ve got a lot of the good nunvill, right Coran?” 

“Of course I do, Number Five! Wouldn’t be caught dead without it. And with all of this, eh-hem,” he coughed, “plotting and pining, I think we’re going to need it.” 

“Oh,” Pidge said, “we are.” 

 

Shiro sat next to Krolia at dinner that night. After spending the afternoon with Keith asleep in his arms he had questions. He did his best not to vibrate out of his seat with them the moment they all sat down, but halfway into the meal and a loud story from Lance, Shiro couldn’t wait any longer. 

“How long has this been going on?”

Krolia finished her bite of roast and put her utensil down lightly. She only spoke after taking a sip of the wine they were all drinking. “As I said before, likely since the engagement.”

“That was almost four years ago. If he’s been this bad off why not say anything sooner?” He didn’t want to sound accusatory but it had been eating at him all day. 

“Again, Shiro, I hadn’t thought it was this bad.” She swirled her wine glass. “He was good at hiding it, at first. I originally thought he was just trying to lose himself a little bit with how much he was… _entertaining_ others around the base and between missions. I figured out quickly enough though that he was trying to sate the ache. He didn’t know what it was. I hesitated in telling him, because if it wasn’t what I thought then he would emotionally heal like any normal human. It wasn’t until he stopped finding comfort in others and instead withdrew almost completely that my suspicions were confirmed. That was almost two years ago.”

“Why is it so bad now?” He felt like he knew the answer already. 

“You’re here, and he wasn’t ready to see you again, not this much. I understand that any other time, outside of the wedding,” she said the word with enough venom Shiro knew there was another story there, “he kept contact with you minimal. Yesterday he was with you for a very long time for the first time in years. It’s put him in overdrive with need.” 

Shiro choked. “Need?” 

“For requited feelings. Don’t fret, Captain, I don’t need you to service my son.” Krolia smirked and took another sip of wine. 

“I, no, I meant…” Shiro cleared his throat. “Right. And it isn’t captain anymore, ma’am. Just Shiro.”

“We both know you never stopped being a captain, even if you were trying to pretend otherwise.” She set the wine glass down and went back to the roast. “Be there for him, Shiro. Today was a good start, but it’s an uphill battle from here.” 

“I’ll fight for him, I promise.” He tried to go back to his own meal but a dinner roll smacked him in the head. When he looked up Lance was staring at him ferociously. 

“Hey, just because she’s your future mother-in-law doesn’t mean you get to ignore us.” 

The whole table was looking at him. All seven sets of eyes zeroed in. “I, no, she’s not… guys…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Pidge said. “We know, Shiro. Allura and Lance told us everything. And we’re here to help.” They pointed their knife at him. “Also I was right, so I get to be a brat about this and you can’t say a damn thing.” 

Shiro put his hands up in defeat. Pidge did have him there. That particular conversation still haunted him, now more than ever. 

“You told them?” Krolia was stiff as a board next to Shiro. He briefly wondered if his death was going to be blink-of-an-eye quick or excruciatingly slow. 

“No, I mean, Allura said she—”

“I put it together yesterday. I couldn’t keep it from them once I figured out. Krolia, I am sorry if you were trying to keep it quieter, but I think we can help here.” Allura smiled kindly at them both. “If we’re all here to back Shiro up, it might help Keith believe what’s happening. It could help him heal faster.”

Krolia considered. “You aren’t wrong. The moment he finds out Shiro knows, there’s going to be resistance. He may already suspect.” 

“Even if he does I’m not going to stop trying,” Shiro said. He looked around the table. “You all knew long before I did,” he looked at Pidge as he said that part, “and if I hadn’t been so scared about what it meant, I may have acted on it sooner. I love him. It’s taken me years to realize and longer to allow myself to feel, but I do.” He took a deep breath. “I know how frustrating watching me fumble through this must have been. So thank you, everyone, for your support. My feelings aside, even with how much they may play into this, I just want him well.” Shiro bit his lip. “I can’t lose him again.”

“We’re with you, Shiro,” Lance said. He got up and started to load the plate at Keith’s empty place. “Here, take this to him. Go eat with him. Maybe he’ll actually get out of bed tomorrow if you do.”

Hunk got up and headed in the direction of the kitchen. “Hold on, I’ve got a basket with some of the cookies Pidge and I made, I was going to give it to you after dinner.” 

“I’ll stop by later with some herbal tea. It’s supposed to help boost immune systems and promote blood flow,” Coran added.

“I can set up the room to monitor his biorhythms, just in case,” Pidge offered. 

Krolia perked up at that. “Yes, Pidge, thank you. He’s been fluctuating so badly the last days I hate leaving him alone.” 

Hunk rushed back in and shoved the basket in Shiro’s arms. Lance balanced the plates on top of it. 

“Don’t drop anything,” Allura gigged. “And please, tell Keith we’re all here hoping for his recovery.”

“I will.”

“And yours, Shiro.” Shiro felt his heart clench at her smile. “We’re rooting for the both of you. This has been a long time coming. You deserve your happiness in each other.” 

Tears pricked at his eyes but he was determined not to let the emotions running wild in him show to Keith, not just yet. So he pushed them back and beamed at his friends. “Thank you, all of you, I’m… I’m so lucky and grateful that we’re all here again. And thank you, Allura, for finding your way back to us. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you bringing us all together.”

She waved her hand at him. “Go.” 

He nodded, looking at them all in thanks before taking his spoils away to Keith. 

 

Getting out of bed had been a task, but he did it. Once he was up he realized part of it was overcoming his mental exhaustion. Physically he just ached from underuse of his body. Washing off with a hand towel at the sink had been a feat. If he was going to try and go to dinner, even part of it, he wanted to look a little less like he’d been run over. 

Fresh clothes on and feeling less sleep-mussed than before, Keith ventured out into the hallways. Likely dinner was almost over at this point, but Hunk was always good about saving food. 

He heard Allura’s voice first. The comfort in hearing her speak was something he didn’t expect but should have. She’d always been the guiding force in the group. 

“…from them once I figured it out. Krolia I am sorry if you were trying to keep it quieter…”

Keith stopped in his tracks. They all knew. _Shiro_ knew. Keith’s world spun on its axis. Everything Shiro had done for him today was in response to Keith’s own inability to let go of his feelings. There wasn’t enough air in his lungs. He tried to pull more in but could only manage aborted breaths. His vision was swimming. Shiro—

“I love him.” 

The spinning stopped. Somewhere inside of him something shattered. Or maybe it just stopped breaking. He wasn’t sure. 

Keith fell into the wall while the rest of the conversation washed over him. He only managed to make sense of bits and pieces, and by the time his brain caught up to the fact that Shiro would be coming down the hall it was too late. 

“Keith.” 

Shiro looked struck dumb there in the hall. Basket in his arms, two full plates on top of it, liable to slip off at any second. His mouth worked open and shut several times before words got out. “How much have you heard?” 

“When?” Keith rasped. 

Shiro took a careful step closer. “When what, Keith?” 

Keith closed his eyes. “When did you realize?” 

Shiro moved closer until Keith could feel the heat of his skin inches away. The food on the plates smelled like rich meat and honey. “Probably a year or so ago. When Curtis and I really started falling apart. It took me a little longer to really understand what the feeling was. Even longer to admit it.” Shiro’s head thunked softly on the wall next to Keith’s. “I’m sorry it took so long.” 

Keith breathed in and out. He felt the wall pressing into his temple. Shiro’s breath rustling his fringe. The food, cloying and well made. The buzz of conversation still happening in the dining room. 

“I want to go back to bed,” he said. 

“Okay. I can take the food back to—”

“I want to eat in bed,” he clarified, opening his eyes. He knew they were deeply yellowed and slitted. Shiro didn’t even flinch at it. Just stared at Keith with open concern and affection. “It’s easier for you to support me in bed.” 

Shiro pursed his lips. “Can you get back to the bedroom without help?”

“I can lean on the walls,” he said. 

“Okay.”

Keith ate like he had at lunch, propped into Shiro’s side, slowly, and with very little comment. This time Shiro was eating too, which helped the silence between them be a bit less awkward. The plates got cleared and set next to the basket from Hunk. Keith knew the contents would be delicious and nostalgic, but he was exhausted. 

Shiro looked lost in the room. Nervous beyond anything Keith had ever seen him. No, that was a lie. Shiro had worn this expression after Keith’s trials. 

“Come here,” he said, reaching his hand out. Shiro came willingly, settling across from Keith on the bed. “Stay until I fall asleep. But don’t stay until morning, just until I fall asleep.”

Shiro held Keith’s hands gently. The prosthetic rubbed circles over the backs of his knuckles. “I can do that.” 

Keith nodded. “Did you mean it?”

“ _Keith_.” Shiro reached his left hand up and cupped Keith’s face in it, tracing over the line of scar there. “Of course I meant it. I’m so sorry it took me so long, but I meant every word. Keith I lo—”

Keith pressed a quick finger to Shiro’s lips. “Don’t.” He closed his eyes and let out a long shuddering breath. “Don’t say it just yet. I’m not ready to hear it.” 

Shiro’s lips pressed against the pad of his finger for a moment. “Okay. I mean it though. I’m going to do everything I can to prove it to you, Keith.” 

“I know.” He copied Shiro, holding his face in his hand. There was stubble across his chin and lines marking the corners of his eyes, faint but starting to surface. His eyes were still sparkling grey, and his starlight hair was  falling  out of where he’d pushed it back, like he used to keep it. 

Shiro gave him space while he stripped out of his shirt and down to his boxers. He got down under the sheets and waited. Shiro fit himself around Keith above the covers after shutting off the lights and taking a piss. The faint and faded glow of his arm limned the room in a soft blue. Shiro’s hand was heavy against his stomach, like he was tracking Keith’s breath. He was tense behind Keith, pressed tight to his back and on high alert. Conversely Keith felt himself relax fully for the first time in years. Tension bled out of him into their shared space.

He was out in moments, his breathing even and rumbling in his chest. 

 

The next day rounded out much the same as the day before. Shiro brought Keith food, held him while he rested, and helped him out to see their friends when Keith was feeling strong enough. In small, finite moments Keith told him about what he’d been doing the past five years. His work with the Blades, his wild one nights stands, his mounting exhaustion and illness. It was clear to Shiro that this wasn’t a sudden downswing in Keith’s health—he’d been hiding a lot from Krolia. 

“Axca is loyal to a fault,” he said one night, sipping at the herbal tea from Coran. “She kept reports of how badly I was doing in the field. No one noticed outright, but she took over field ops while I was directing from behind.”

“I can’t imagine how you even let that happen,” Shiro chuckled. “You’re not good at standing aside and letting someone else take on the heavy lifting.” 

“Axca is hard to argue against when she has you pinned to a wall with her gun at your temple.” 

Shiro almost spit out his own tea. “Ah. Well. That is probably what it would take to get you to stand down.”

Keith drew a long finger around the rim of his mug. “You’re not wrong.” 

Shiro bumped his shoulder into Keith’s. “You can’t change that much in five years. I still know you.”

“Do I still know you?” Violet eyes looked up into Shiro’s, desperate hope dancing in their depths. 

“Yes,” Shiro said. He leaned forward and let their foreheads touch. “You know me, Keith.”

There were better and worse days. Krolia had admitted that recovery would take a long time. Especially once Shiro convinced Keith to come clean about how bad off he actually was. 

After sheepishly telling her, Krolia had frog-marched Keith to the private medical rooms in this wing and had him examined. Muscle atrophy had started in some places, but it wasn’t bad yet. His metabolism was out of whack too, explaining some of the intense fatigue. Keith’s hormones were a mess, and emotional instability was a given at this point. 

That much was clear when, after breakfast on day six, Keith kicked Shiro out of his room, citing a headache. Shiro knew it was a lie. Keith was angry again, despite numerous talks, but the hurt wasn’t going to heal over in a few days of heart-to-hearts. 

“ _What do you need?”_

_“I need you to just… Shiro just… I have a headache, okay?”_

_“Do you want me to get you something—”_

Shiro had backed out of the room at Keith’s withering glare. Hours later Shiro was miserably drinking coffee in the kitchen, nursing his bruised ego and trying to get Keith’s glare out of his head.

Krolia found him when the coffee had gone cold. She sat down across from him, her hands folded around a jar filled with something pale blue. 

“He kicked you out?”

Shiro rotated his coffee mug in his hands. “He said he had a headache.” 

“He probably does. But, as much as it’s wearing on you both, he needs you.” Krolia let out a frustrated breath. “Here,” Krolia shoved the jar into his hands.

“What… what is this?” Shiro looked down at the jar. 

“A very important part of the Galra courting ritual, especially for the clans Kolivan and I belong to.”

He slowly screwed the lid off and looked inside. The milky blue substance looked thick, almost like a gel. It smelled sweet and a little like roses. 

“It’s Sart’Va oil,” Krolia explained. “His hair is a nightmare right now. He won’t let anyone braid it and it’s starting to mat, badly. He’s not going to be able to get it all on his own, not easily at least. Might even help the headache.” 

Shiro screwed the lid back onto the jar. “So just go back in there and?”

“Offer. Look, Shiro, I don’t think he’s going to say no to you,” her face turned kind. “No matter how pissy he’s being. Oh, and here.” She pulled a pick like comb out from her pocket and gave it to him. “For the really bad sections.” She got up then and left, squeezing him once on the shoulder. 

Shiro looked at the jar and at his very cold coffee. 

No time like the present. 

He knocked lightly before pushing the door to Keith’s room open. 

“Keith?” 

The curtains were all drawn, the room only getting light from the cracked doorway. Keith was a mass on the bed. A lump of blanket and disgruntled Galra. 

Shiro swallowed past the trepidation from earlier and walked into the room. It didn’t look like Keith had moved that much from the morning. The blankets were tangled around his long legs, patches of skin poking out. His hands tensed in the sheets, but there was no rip, Allura’s word holding true. 

The door shut behind him leaving only tendrils of light from between the curtains to guide him to the edge of the bed. He put a hand out to find a Keith’s shoulder. Instead he found his jaw. 

Keith gasped and leaned into the touch for a fraction of a moment. Then he reeled back, burrowing deeper into the nest of bedding. “What?” He croaked. 

“Your…” Shiro frowned and looked at the jar in his hands. “Do you want help braiding your hair?” 

Keith shifted. “Did mom put you up to this?” 

“A bit, she's worried about you.”

“And you?”

“And me what? Keith, of course I'm worried about you. I'm _always_ worried about you.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “We both know that the way we get through this is moments together, building trust back. Do you trust me with this?” 

Keith blinked lazily up at him, pupils dilating in yellow sclera while he thought. “All right.”

Shiro helped him up, sitting behind him cross-legged on the bed. He commanded the room to bring up the lights just enough to see. Close up, Keith’s hair was truly a mess. He opened the jar and dipped his fingers in. The oil was cool and melted between his fingers. 

“Just start at the top,” Keith said quietly. His whole body was still. Tense in anticipation or fear or some combination, Shiro wasn’t sure. He gently pushed his fingers into the hair at Keith’s crown and watched the shudder roll down his spine. 

It was a long process. After working the oil into his scalp it was a matter of combing it through the tangled locks. Shiro started with chunks of hair on his left side, finger-combining through them where he could, using the pick-comb for spots he couldn’t. When he was working on the back, the low rumbling sound Keith had been sometimes making in his sleep was audible. Shiro was careful not to say anything about it or put a name to it. Not yet at least. 

Each pass through his hair made Keith slump farther over, his body listing a little as he relaxed. More than once Shiro had to nudge him back into place. There was no shortage of brittle hair tangled around his fingers with the oil. Shiro rubbed it all into a clump and threw it into the nearby waste bin. 

“It needs to sit for a while,” Keith murmured. “To settle in and then I gotta wash it all back out. Then I can braid it.” 

“Okay.” Shiro ran his hands through the length of it again. “Do you want meet put it up then?”

Keith nodded. “Break it into three and braid it. Then braid those together. I’ll wrap it into a bun when you’re done.” 

Shiro started sectioning out hair, suddenly grateful to girls on his high school cross country team for teaching him how to do this.  “Has your mom done this for you?”

Keith shook his head minutely. “No, I watched her do it for Kolivan. Back when he wasn’t sure she was over my dad or not.” He laughed. “We were at mom’s quarters and she just shoved him down and started unbraiding his hair. I was brushing the Wolf so I didn’t noticed what was happening at first, but when I did it was too awkward for me to leave.”

“This is usually a more… intimate thing, then?” Shiro let the first strand of braid go. “You have something I can tie this with?” Keith pointed to his bag by the desk and Shiro went. 

“If it’s family not so much, I don’t think. But it can be for courtship,” Keith said. “I think mom knew I was there and wanted me in on the moment. They got married shortly after.”

Shiro came back to the bed and tied off the first braid. He went through the rest without comment, focusing on the braids. When all three small ones were woven together Shiro helped Keith wind it into a bun at the base of his neck. Some oil had smeared onto his shoulder and back. Unthinking Shiro reached out and massaged it into Keith’s skin. 

“ _Ooh,_ ” Keith groaned. 

They both froze at the sound. Tentatively Shiro rubbed into the muscle of Keith’s shoulder and Keith melted under the touch. 

“Lie down.”

Keith tilted forward and stretched out over the bed like a cat. Shiro groped around behind him for a pillow and gave it to Keith. When he was settled Shiro briefly thought about staying there on the edge of the bed. He knew it wouldn’t last like that though and gave in right away, throwing a leg over Keith’s thighs and resting there, some weight in his legs so he wasn’t crushing the man beneath him. 

Muscles bunched under his fingers, tense at first, but as he worked they loosened. Knots made themselves known and he pressed at them, drawing deep and long strokes over the swollen flesh. The rumbling was pronounced now and Shiro smirked to himself. There was a newer rumor, one that spread the more Galra got involved with other races peacefully, that they could purr when content. 

Shiro was going to guard the truth of that statement with his life. 

“How’d you learn to do this?” Keith all but slurred into the pillow. 

The question made Shiro pause. Might as well be honest. “Early on, when trouble first started between Curtis and I, we went to a couples retreat where they taught massage. I actually really enjoyed it and took more lessons after we got back.” He let out a rueful laugh. “Didn’t help the marriage much, but I can give a really good massage now for an amateur.”

Keith hummed below him, the sound morphing into a deep purr. “You’re good.” 

Shiro lost himself in the motion of his hands on Keith’s skin. A dull beat of arousal thrummed in his gut. He focused instead on making Keith pliant under his fingers, making each muscle give up the tension buried down in its fibers. When he was finally running his fingers down completely tender flesh he glanced at the clock. 

“Keith.” 

“Mmph.”

He laughed and rubbed a hand over Keith’s back trying to rouse him. “Come on, we gotta get this out of your hair.”

“Can’t move. You killed me.” 

Shiro lifted up onto his knees and pushed Keith over by the shoulder. Keith flopped over, twisted at his waist, like a rag doll. His face was scrunched and soft, eyes gone glassy. It stole Shiro’s breath seeing him like this. Lax and unraveled beneath him. He jumped back to sit on his haunches, coughing to disguise the thoughts flitting across his mind. 

Keith rolled fully and propped himself up. “Seriously you’re going to have to help me to the bathroom, I think you made my legs stop working.” 

Shiro chuckled and grabbed Keith’s arms, hauling him up. “Come on, you.” They stumbled to the bathroom and eventually settled on Keith leaning over the tub edge while Shiro used the detachable showered to wash his hair. Uncoiled from the braid it spilled like midnight over porcelain. More distracting, which was a feat, was Keith shirtless, his back braced and bare for Shiro to look at. Silvery scars criss crossed over it, some Shiro knew and some he did not. He only just stopped himself from tracing the ones from Keith’s trials. 

He ended up taking his own shirt off. He had to lean down far into the tub with the showerhead to get water over all of Keith’s hair. The water almost sluiced right off it because of the oil. At great length it was wet enough to start working in the shampoo, scalp down again, Keith listing into the motion of it like he had on the bed. 

It took two full washes, which got Shiro nearly as soaked as Keith’s hair, but all of the oil was out. Drying it was an entire other headache, first vigorously toweling Keith’s head off, then squeezing out the rest into the tub. 

“It’s so fucking heavy wet,” Keith groaned. 

“Yeah but if we try and blow dry it, it’s going to take an hour.” 

Keith grunted in agreement. “Just grab all the fucking towels, it’ll dry as we brush it.” He was pulling it over his shoulders and running his fingers through it. He looked a little in awe of how easily he could get his hands worked through the strands. Droplets fell onto his bare chest as he stroked it, water streaking down his chest and stomach. 

Shiro’s mouth went dry. 

When he didn’t move Keith looked up and opened his mouth but lost the words. His eyes tracked down Shiro’s own shirtless chest with the same kind of hunger Shiro had been banking since he first knelt on the bed. 

Keith broke first and started yanking towels out of the cupboard with prejudice. He crammed am armload into Shiro. “Go put these on the bed or it’s going to get soaked.” 

“S-soaked—”

“With water. From my _hair_ ,” Keith rolled his eyes and started to pull out what was arguably way too many towels. Shiro didn’t say anything and obediently went to start on the towel nest atop the covers. 

They towel-dried Keith’s hair enough that it was no longer dripping, but just wet. Shiro grabbed the comb and started going over each glossy section, making sure no knots remained. 

“Is this was what your mother did?” 

Keith’s ears flushed. “I wasn’t around after they got to the washing part. I figured I’d already seen enough.” 

Shiro snorted. “So they totally went off and did it?” He said it airily, as a joke, but tension had crawled back into Keith. Shiro stopped, setting the brush down. “Keith, I didn’t mean…” he put a hand on Keith’s shoulder and felt him trembling. 

“I didn’t think that you doing this would feel so… so _good_.” Keith looked at him over his shoulder, eyes half-lidded and pupils blown. “ _Shiro._ ” 

He moved without thought. His left hand cupped Keith’s jaw and pulled him in. Keith didn’t close his eyes, staring Shiro down from the bare distance. He could feel Keith’s breath, warm over his lips, their mouths were so close. 

He heard it, the barest of rumbles from Keith’s chest. It was all that it took for Shiro to fall on Keith like he was starving. The first press was hard, teeth clacking against one another in the surge. Shiro didn’t stop though, couldn’t. The next was softer, Keith’s mouth parting for Shiro’s, his lips moving slowly against him in an open-mouthed kiss. Sharp canines nipped at him. Shiro moaned, and Keith sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. He released it slowly and Shiro came back with tongue, licking into Keith’s mouth. He swallowed the whimper Keith made, and barely restrained his own when Keith shifted and straddled his lap. 

The angle was too perfect, too tempting. He left Keith’s mouth to trace a wet trail down his cheek and throat, licking the still damp skin. 

“ _Takashi_.”

Shiro shuddered and buried his face against Keith’s neck. There had been times when he had wondered how his name would sound coming from Keith’s lips. He didn’t anticipate the sound arresting his heart and making him want to cry. 

Keith’s arms came up around him and held him, gentle kisses pressed into his hair. “Takashi,” Keith said again. “It’s okay.” 

It took him a moment to realize the wetness on Keith’s neck was because he was actually crying. Sobbing, really, into Keith’s neck. “I’m sorry. Keith I am so fucking sorry—

“Shiro—”

“For the wedding, for-for pulling away, for the _facility_. For not being there when you needed me, being dead, and you-you almost,” the sound that came out of his mouth was inhuman. _That_ piece of information had only come to him yesterday when Lance mentioned it so offhandedly he must have thought Shiro knew. He had not, and told Lance as much before trying to confront Keith about it. It hadn’t gone well. 

“But I didn’t,” Keith said, his tone infinitely more patient than it had been the day before when he growled at Shiro to drop it. “I didn’t. I’m here. And you’re here. And even though it’s a fucking asshole about it, the universe kept us together.” He drew his hands up Shiro’s arms and pulled his face away from his neck. 

Keith’s eyes were shining with love, unguarded like they hadn’t been this whole week. They were also their normal purple, whites and all. He smiled at Shiro, thumbs gathering and wiping away his tears. “We’re here. It isn’t pretty. Sure as hell isn’t what either of us imagined, but we’re here.” He pressed a tender kiss over each of Shiro’s eyes. “Lie down with me.” 

Keith cleared the towels and pulled them both under the covers, Shiro cradled against his chest. He was still crying, and he wasn’t sure what he was crying about. There were too many things. Too much war and loss and failure to follow. Keith held him through it, his hand running up and down Shiro’s spine. 

They fell asleep like that, tangled together with Keith’s unbound hair everywhere. 

Shiro stayed through to the morning. 

 

Two different timers were going off at once and there was a pot boiling over on the stove. 

“Hunk, seriously, I’m not completely useless, just let me help,” Lance begged. Hunk scurried to the stove to turn the heat down and stir the stew. He also managed to get the oven door open with his foot to duck down and whisk out the meat he had in there. Lance was in awe and also mildly concerned. “It’s just my sister and Acxa, and the MFE gang, why are you freaking out?”

“I’m not freaking out, Lance!” Hunk shouted. “It’s a lot of people! Keith is finally up and moving again, Allura’s got her feet under her, this is going to be a good fucking celebration dinner, _okay_.” 

“He’s freaking out because he’s gonna see Ryan.” Pidge sipped their coffee mildly. “Which is also why he made ten loaves of bread yesterday.” 

“Ryan? Like Kinkade? Why is he losing it over Kinkade?” Lance poked at a gelatinous fruit concoction on the counter. 

“I am _not_ losing it over Kinkade!” 

“Ryan likes food and chemical reactions and shit. And engineering. And Hunk thinks he’s hot shit.” Pidge finished their coffee with a smack. “Isn’t that right, big guy?” 

Hunk hauled the pot off of the stove and glared at them both through the haze of steam. “Ryan is a nice, attractive guy who I am friends with. He enjoys analyzing food composition as much as I do and doesn’t just _scarf it down_ before listening to the care I put into it! So _yes_ , I am excited to see Ryan and talk with someone who is competent on galactic yeast variations!” 

“And you want to dick him down.”

“And I want to—LANCE!” 

Lance scurried out of the kitchen before anything could be weaponized, Pidge on his heels. “Are we just playing matchmaker right now? First Shiro and Keith, now Hunk and Kinkade?”

“I don’t mind,” Pidge giggled. “I love using our friends like puppets.”

“You’re evil,” Lance laughed. He opened his mouth to start plotting to set up Hunk, but a low sound bleeding out into the hall made him stop and grab Pidge’s arm. “Do you hear that?” 

Pidge stopped. “Yeah, it sounds like a low-level engine. What the hell?” 

They followed the noise to the nearby living room. The windows were open, letting in a warm breeze, sunlight filing the room with golden motes of light. On one of the larger couches Shiro was sprawled on his back, prosthetic arm flat on the ground with a datapad in hand. His other arm was up around Keith’s back. Keith himself was sprawled over Shiro, thick braid hanging down over his shoulder and piled next to Shiro’s head. 

“Aw,” Lance said. “They must have fallen asleep after breakfast.”

Pidge was staring at the pair wide-eyed. “Lance, I think it’s Keith.” 

“You think what’s Kei—ohhh my god.” Pidge was right. The low rumbling sound was coming from this room. Specifically from Keith, dead asleep, and _purring_ on Shiro. “ _Oh my god_.” 

“The rumors are true,” Pidge said faintly. “Did you know he could do that?”

“No! He’d kill me on sight if he knew!” 

“I’ll kill you both if you don’t shut up and let him sleep.” Shiro’s tone made them both go stiff. “And if either of you mention this to anyone without his express permission, it’s not _Keith_ you’re going to have to worry about.” 

“R-right on Shiro, you two uh, just keep cuddling. Yeah. Enjoy. Pidge?” Lance bodily steered them both from the room and hopefully to a place where they wouldn’t be skinned alive by their former teammates. 

“I still can’t believe he _purrs_ ,” Pidge said when they’d made it outside to the gardens. “It’s kinda cute.”

“Shut up. I don’t trust that they can’t still hear us somehow. Oh god, they’re back together. Do you remember what that was like? Keith and Shiro, tag-team mom and dad.” 

“Keith was dad,” Pidge said. 

“Of course Keith was dad! Hands off until shit hit the fan and then _you hit the fan_.” Lance shuddered. 

Pidge snickered. Out on the lawn Matt was playing with the Holts new dog. His girlfriend, Ren, was standing by watching. 

“You think they’ll make it?”

“Who? Shiro and Keith?” Lace sniffed and crossed his arms. “I do. Think about everything they’ve been through up until now. The hurdles, the stupid communication mishaps, Keith’s body literally failing him because he can’t bring himself to _not_ love Shiro. They’ll make it work.”

“If they don’t can we just jettison them both into a black hole?” 

“Absolutely.” Lance perked up and stalked across the lawn. The doors to his room had subtly opened. He left Pidge with a wink and casually walked to them. 

Allura was there, hiding in the doorway so the Holts weren’t tipped off early. Her dress was light and airy, making her look like a goddess in the sunlight. “Hey beautiful.”

Allura giggled. “Hello, love.” She reached for him and gave him a sound kiss. “How has your day been?”

Lance shrugged. “I got yelled at by Hunk for trying to help out, and then I got yelled at by Shiro for calling Keith cute.” 

“Why would Shiro yell at you for calling Keith cute?” Allura reached up and played with some of his hair. 

“Because Keith was passed out on his chest pu—like putty.” Lance cleared his throat and looked anywhere but his girlfriend. 

“You were about to say purring, weren’t you?” Allura chased his gaze. “You were! Lance, l already know Galra can purr, silly. I’m glad to hear it.” She tucked herself into Lance’s neck. “It means Keith is well and truly healing.” 

“Please don’t say anything, I think he thinks it’ll ruin his image of the stony, aloof leader.” Lance leaned into her, pushing his nose into her hair. In little moments like these he tried to soak her up. Battle away all of the numb and empty longing with things like the damp sweat at the back of her neck in the noonday sun. Or the way her hair tickled his nose. Her chin digging into his shoulder at an awkward angle. All of it. 

“I won’t, I promise. I’m just happy it sounds like they’re past the hard bit of this.” She curled into him and swayed a little. “I asked Coran to find some music. I want to dance tonight, just have a party with all of us here.” 

“Mmm,” Lance spun her around in a slow circle. “Sounds good to me.” 

 

The dinner was so close to being done he could feel the plating in his soul. Everything was getting served at once, family style, which took some pressure off of him at least. Still, he wanted this to be perfect. 

Seeing Allura that first night in bed had been a moment of desperate hope. The tears and the heartbreak and heartmend had been profound. As much as it was a good thing, it hadn’t been a celebration. It had been a miracle, and people often forgot that miracles came with letdown from the pain they saved. 

Tonight was a celebration. It was a reveal to close friends and a rally for the start of true healing. The last five years had seen them all grow in ways that had, more or less, been poor coping mechanisms for their own versions of PTSD. As he looked out over the spread of the meal Hunk realized this was the first time he was nervous about his craft in a very long time. 

And it wasn’t just the idea of feeding and seeing Ryan. 

He was cooking as an act of love, and he’d lost that. 

“Well, this is a sight for sore and travel-weary eyes.” 

The smile that blossomed on his face came from his chest, echoing out into his arms when he turned to see Ryan leaning in the entryway to the kitchen. He took two long strides and grabbed Ryan up in a bear hug. If it lasted for a little longer than his normal hugs, no one had to know but them. 

“Hey buddy! When did you get here? How was the flight?” 

“Just now. And it was full of gossip about what the hell is going on,” he said. He kept an arm around Hunk’s shoulders while he surveyed the food. “Though I’m going to assume it’s good? You don’t make a family-style meal like this unless things are going good.” 

Hunk ducked his head. When did Ryan start reading him so well? “Yeah, well, we’ve got a pretty amazing surprise guest coming to dinner.”

“Looking forward to it. And…” Ryan pulled back, a wide grin on his face, “you said you got type 167 to actually bloom in something other than acid?” 

“Oh my god, you have to see this bread Ryan. It’s—”

“No yeast talk!” Veronica yelled. She was coming in with Axca not far behind. “None of it. I heard him getting all excited about in on the way here and I do not want to hear it at dinner.” She came and kissed Hunk’s cheek. “However, can I nab an early bite of something if I help you get this to the table?” 

“Sure. Come on, I’m sure everyone is starving.” 

The four of them loaded up on dishes and went out to the patio dining table. Griffin and Rizavi were already deep in conversation with Matt and Pidge, likely about Garrison news. Hunk felt a stab of nostalgia seeing them. 

“All right folks, lets settle in. I didn’t spend all day in the kitchen for you to ignore the food!” Everyone nabbed seats immediately. Much to Hunk’s pleasure, Ryan sat beside him. Drinks had already been doled out by Coran. Lance grabbed his glass and stood, grin reaching ear to ear. 

“Gathered friends and family. Now, I won’t lie, we’ve got some work ahead of us and it’s why we called you all here. But tonight is a night to celebrate.” He took a deep breath and looked around the table. 

Underneath it Hunk was surprised when Ryan’s hand reached for his. He turned to Hunk, a question in his golden eyes. Hunk smiled and nodded up at Lance. 

“Tonight we raise our glasses to an amazing woman, one who I never knew I’d love this much.” 

Around the table those not in the know tensed, like Ryan. Hunk squeezed his hand. 

“Reality, quintessence, space itself is still a thing we don’t totally understand, and, if anything, what we’ve all learned is that understanding it, or anything, takes time. Just like it took time for this to happen. Everyone, please join me in a toast, to Allura,” Lance looked behind him, smiling sweetly, “who came back to us.” 

Predictably when Allura walked out a lot of stemware hit the table. Hunk was glad he convinced Coran to put out the durable kind and not the fancy Altean crystal. 

As expected all hell broke loose with their core group trying to explain to everyone else how it all happened. Only Slav and Ryan had remained in their seats. Slav was calmly eating everything that wasn’t red. Ryan was looking at Hunk like he was having an aneurysm. 

“It’s her,” Hunk said, still holding Ryan’s hand. _He was still holding Ryan’s hand._ “It just took her a long time to try and come back. We’ve checked everything out. Nothing is coming, we haven’t seen any weird spikes in anything, Pidge checked like, a bajillion times. And I helped. She’s just back. And we’re all here to gameplan how to announce that.” 

Ryan frowned in thought. “Okay.” 

“Okay?”

“Okay,” he let go of Hunks hand and reached for a basket of purple rolls. “Weirder shit has happened to us, man. Honestly, this isn’t that surprising. Amazing, for sure, but really, it makes sense.” 

“That’s what I’m saying!” Slav said, nearly spraying food all the way across the table to them. “This was an eighty-eight-point-nine-five percent possibility! Why does no one ever listen to me. Point in case,” he leaned over the table, “you made the red galfer fish, not the blue, Hunk! If you eat any of that you won’t end up with your first love!”

Hunk looked at Ryan, who was still angled close, and examining the composition of the bread rolls after tearing one apart. “Yeah,” he said, and started to load the plate with the fish,  “I think I’m good with that.” 

“Good with what?” Ryan looked up, golden eyes wide, a smile curving his full lips. “And these are less dense than I thought they would be.”

Hunk smiled back. “Just gotta make sure to not over-knead. Do you know if the Garrison knows about Pidge wanting to get out of teaching? I may be interested in taking up the spot.” 

 

Keith watched from a bench as dancing struck up. He wasn’t up to that quite yet, not after the long day. Shiro had disappeared to get him tea in case he did feel up to trying. 

He played with the end of his braid, freshly done for dinner. There were a few small stylized braids coming from his crown that Shiro had woven in. He’d sheepishly told Keith that, after the first time, he’d asked Krolia for more information on braids in Galran culture. This braid apparently was done twice down the left side of the head to signal courting intent. Keith reached up and touched his fingers to the small strands. It had taken Shiro two tries to get them to lie flat and neat against his head. 

Axca had done a double take when she saw them from across the table. She was also, he realized, walking up to him. 

“Boss,” she said, sitting down to his right. 

“Axca,” he said, ignoring her nickname for him. “Well,” he gestured to Allura, “she’s back.”

“She’s back,” she said. “Veronica is still freaking out about the logistics of it, but after all the time I spent with Lotor, I’m not shocked there was a way. I’m just glad she found it.” 

“We all are,” Keith said. He dropped his hand from his hair and leaned back. “How’s the mission on Ixion Five going?” 

“Fine,” she said. “Our informant gave us good intel. There should be a bust of the trafficking ring there in the next quintant.”

“Good to hear.” He was trying to keep from acknowledging the shrewd look she was giving him. 

“You’re looking better,” she said carefully. 

Keith hummed. “Feeling better.” 

She growled. “Keith come _on_ , you have courting braids in your hair! Your hair is _braided at all_. Don’t hide this from me, not after what you’ve put me through.” 

Keith hung his head and looked up at her through his bangs. “You’re right, that wasn’t fair. We’re together. It’s not… I’m not better, and it’s not like we haven’t got miles more baggage to go through but, it’s good. We’re good.”

Axca slumped down next to him. “Fucking finally.” 

“I regret teaching you that word.” 

“That’s because you’re a douchebag.”

“That one too.” He laughed. “But seriously, thank you for putting up with me. I don’t know how you and mom didn’t kill me.”

“We talked about it. Might’ve put you out of your misery faster.” She sniffed. “But we figured that would make Shiro realize he loved you, and it was just going to be too damn tragic.” 

“Yes, thanks for that.” Axca elbowed him and he elbowed her back. “How about you and Veronica? You said you wanted to propose last time we talked.”

“Just wait for her to turn annnnd there, see it?” 

Keith smiled. There was a complicated braid running down the right side of Veronica’s hair. He wasn’t sure how he didn’t see it before. “Nice. She tell Lance yet?” 

“Well, he hasn’t tried to skin me alive, so I don’t think so.” She crossed her arms. “You think I should act scared or just stoneface it?” 

“Stoneface it. He wouldn’t appreciate the ruse,” Keith said. Movement to his left made him sit up. 

Shiro had a mug of tea in hand and a dopey smile on his face. He kissed Keith’s temple when he handed him the mug. “Here you go, baby.” 

Keith flushed and put a hand on Shiro’s chest. “Are you drunk?” 

Shiro bit at his lip and squinted his eyes. “Nooo, just tipsy.” He swayed on the last word. 

“You are,” Keith snorted. “Axca, can this big lug steal your seat before he tips over?” 

“Sure. Plus I think Allura may be explaining that braid to Lance. I should go anyway.” 

True to word, Allura was saying something to Veronica on the impromptu dance floor. Lance was getting redder in the face with every word and Veronica was hastily looking for Axca. 

“They’re engaged,” Keith said, lifting the mug in the direction of the group. “Lance may try and—oh, yep, there he goes. Oh _ouch_.” Keith and Shiro grimaced together when Veronica punched him in the gut sending him to the floor. “Well, that was expected.” 

“I’m surprised she didn’t knee him the way he had his finger in Axca’s face,” Shiro said. He put his arm around Keith and drew him in. Keith went. Last week this would have had him reeling, being on display like this. Now it felt gentle, right in a way he longed for and never expected to have. He could smell the alcohol on Shiro, the faint smell of sweat from the day, below that his own musk that now mingled with Keith’s on the pillows in his room. 

He took a sip of tea and leaned his head on Shiro’s shoulder. Shiro’s hand came up to trace a finger along the courting braids. “You did a good job,” Keith said. He pressed a tiny kiss to the top of Shiro’s pec. “Made Axca look twice when she saw.” 

“Hmm, what did she say?” 

“She said that her and mom were contemplating killing me to put me out of my misery. They decide against it because it’d make you too tragic.” 

Shiro snorted. “Wow. Just how intolerable were you?” 

“I’m fairly sure you’ve seen these past ten days.” Keith snuggled in more, feeling lax and heady here in this atmosphere. He trailed a hand on Shiro’s thigh. There was no weight in it, just the feeling of Shiro solid under his hand. 

“You weren’t terrible. Bitchy yes, but not terrible.” Shiro looked down at him. “You getting tired?” 

Keith blinked his eyes open, not realizing he’d closed them. “Yeah, might be time for me to head in. But I made it through today with only one nap!” 

Shiro laughed. “I’m so proud of you, baby. Come on, up. You can finish the tea in the room.” Shiro helped him up and they made their rounds of goodnights. Keith drained the tea and left the mug on the table, stumbling to the room with Shiro. 

“I’m gonna shower real quick,” Shiro said, pulling his shirt off once they were through the door. “If I don’t, hungover me is going to be pissed.”

“Okay,” Keith yawned. He watched from the bed while Shiro stripped down to his boxers, leaving his clothes in a trail to the bathroom. He closed the door before taking the boxers off and Keith felt a pang of disappointment. 

He also recognized true arousal stirring in him for the first time in a long while. 

When Shiro had braided his hair, when they kissed, the stirrings of something had been there. Now it was rising in him with vengeance, dormant for too long. He laid there, listening to Shiro in the shower as a storm rose inside of him. It wasn’t just the need to be with Shiro, it was deeper than that. He needed to claim. That was his mate, the man he loved, who bore no _mark_ of it. 

It had been a full two days since his Galran traits had come forth without consent. This time he didn’t try and shove them away. 

Shiro came out of the bathroom in a rush of steam, boxers back on and water still dripping down his chest. All traces of fatigue scampered from Keith’s system. He had a need. 

“Shiro.” 

Shiro’s head snapped up, taking stock of Keith on the bed. His yellowed eyes, his claws, his _fangs_. 

“Keith? Are you okay? Did—did you get bad again? What can I do?” 

“Come here.” His tone left little room for argument. 

Shiro sat on the edge of the bed cautiously. “Keith, what is it? What’s wrong?” 

“Do you trust me?” Keith held his gaze. “Because I need do something.” He rose up on his knees and took Shiro’s face in his hands. It looked so soft and tender next to his claws. He let the tips kiss Shiro’s temple. Shiro shuddered beneath him. 

“Yes,” he breathed. Like he knew, like he’d been expecting this. 

Maybe he had. He’d researched braids, after all. 

Keith kissed him. It was rough and mostly teeth and panting mouths. He let one hand trail down Shiro’s chest, tracing the planes of muscle and fine hairs. He hit the waistband and traced over the shape of him, palmed at Shiro’s soft cock. 

“ _Keith._ ” 

“Tell me,” Keith said into his ear, teeth dragging over the lobe. “Please, Shiro, tell me.” 

Shiro pushed his hands into Keith’s hair, catching on the braids and messing them all to hell. He kissed Keith possessively. Tongue diving into his mouth and hauling him as close as he could get. He pulled back, mouth wet with spit. “I love you, Keith, I love you so fucking much.” 

Keith whimpered and caught Shiro’s lips, licking and biting him, his cock trapped in his pants against Shiro’s stomach. “I love you, Shiro,” he sobbed in between breaths, “I have _always_ loved you.” 

“I know, baby, I know, I’m sorry I made you wait, I’m so sorry.” Shiro was kissing him  open- mouthed and messy between confessions, his lips swollen and slick when Keith would catch them in his teeth. 

“Make it up to me.” Keith pushed him back onto the bed. His claws raked down Shiro’s chest, the slightly raised pink lines setting satisfaction deep in his gut. 

Shiro bucked beneath him, his cock caught up with the program. “Take me,” Shiro said. His eyes were full of need and adoration. Awe, even. 

Keith took him apart slowly, almost in a daze of need. He didn’t remember getting them both naked, but they were. He was sucking on a nipple, his teeth grazing only just, only enough to make Shiro _whine_ beneath him. 

He had found enough wherewithal to make the claws go away. He was sure Shiro appreciated it with three slicked fingers crammed up his ass, brushing rhythmically against his prostate. Keith was fairly sure his mother had put the lube in the nightstand. He’d have to thank her for it later. 

“Keith, _please_ , I need you, I can’t… I’m not going to, _ungg,_ make it —hah!” 

Keith sucked and pulled on Shiro’s nipple, leaving it with a loud pop. He sat back, proud of the wet red marks dotting Shiro’s skin, but they weren’t enough. Not yet. 

He eased into Shiro with patience he didn’t know the had. Below him Shiro’s cock twitched, precome dripping stickily from it onto his stomach. He paused and gave it a few good tugs. Shiro keened and fucked himself down farther on Keith’s cock. 

“You feel so good,” Keith growled once he was fully inside. Shiro was bent in half, his legs over Keith’s shoulders. His floating arm was pressed flush to Keith’s back, keeping him close. The other was stretched above his head, Keith’s hand grasped in his. 

“Make me yours,” Shiro rasped. “Take me apart, please, _Keith._ ” 

Keith pulled out just enough to tease and slammed back in, angling to hit that spot deep in Shiro. Shiro wailed, and clenched around him, trying to keep him in even as Keith set a steady, hard pace. 

They watched each other as they fucked, breathing into each other’s mouths, sharing sloppy kisses. 

Keith could feel the pleasure cresting. It was too soon, but it had been so long. And this was Shiro beneath him, around him, mewling and crying out for him. He couldn’t hold it off any more than the slow spin of planets or the collapsing of a star. 

“Shiro, Shiro listen,” he panted. “Shiro I need to, to mark, _ah_.”

“Do it,” Shiro whispered. He pushed his hips back against Keith, punctuating it. 

“No, Shiro, I—” 

Shiro’s right had came to rest at the back of Keith’s head and pulled it to his shoulder. “It’s okay, Keith.” 

Keith wailed, hips stuttering, cock pistioning in and out of Shiro. “ _Takashi._ ” 

“Keith, baby, please, do it my love. It’s okay.” His hand stroked through Keith’s hair, long loosened from its braid and falling all around them. 

A growl crawled its way up his lungs, fierce and wild. The sound echoed in the room before he lunged, biting hard over the juncture of neck and shoulder. Below him Shiro whimpered and stilled, waiting for Keith to pull back. 

The moment blood hit his mouth his mind blanked and he came. He was still coming moments later when he came back to himself, Shiro’s thumb massaging his jaw to unlock. He pulled back, blood pulsing out over skin and lips and teeth. The bite was deep, but it was only punctures. No ripping of flesh like Keith at times had seen. Ezor’s was a sight to behold. 

He felt himself empty at last and pulled slowly out, licking over the wound as he did. Shiro was trembling beneath him, still hard. Keith reached down and dipped his fingers into Shiro’s ass, coating them in come and lube to ease the slide as he got Shiro off with his hand. 

Shiro came with Keith’s name on his lips, over and over again. Keith kissed him through it, bringing him down slowly. When Shiro started to soften in his hand Keith pulled back. 

The bed was a mess of fluids, the bite mark still gently oozing blood. If not for the afterglow haze it would look like Shiro had been mauled. Keith was oddly proud. 

“I think… I need… another shower,” Shiro said, his brain clearly short-circuited. 

“We need new sheets, too,” Keith mused. His heart was going a million miles in his chest. The need to protect and cherish was thrumming inside of him. Shiro was _his_ , the mark on his shoulder was indisputable. 

It was like his universe was finally realigned with its proper axis. 

This time Keith hauled Shiro up, carting him to the bathtub and cleaning them up. He left Shiro in there to soak while he stripped and remade the bed. The energy surging in him was sure to ebb at some point, might as well make the most of it while he could. 

Shiro was sleepy and pliant coming out of the bath, draping himself over Keith uselessly. “Come on, love, try and walk a little?” 

“Mmm, no, carried you all week. Plus I’m injured now.” Shiro muttered. “Your turn.” 

“It isn’t that bad, my teeth aren’t that long,” Keith chuckled. He laid Shiro down gently, leaving only to rummage in the bathroom for a first aid kit. He found it, and dressed Shiro’s shoulder, the process made difficult by Shiro refusing to move an inch. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Keith huffed, finally getting the medical tape to stick to Shiro’s back. 

“Yeah, but you love me.” 

Keith set the kit on the nightstand and snuggled down into Shiro’s arms. He commanded the lights to go off, only the Altean moon left to light the room. Shiro’s hair really did look like starlight then. Keith couldn’t resist running his hand through it. Shiro turned into the touch, the dopey grin back on his face. 

“I love you,” he said, kissing Keith’s nose. 

Keith wrinkled his face and kissed Shiro properly. “I love you too.” He settled back against Shiro’s arm and started tracing patterns around the hickeys on his chest. “You know, Kolivan wants an ambassador from the coalition on Daibazaal. Preferably someone he trusts deeply.”

Shiro hummed. “That so?” 

“Yeah,” Keith looked up at him and grinned, “what do you think, Admiral?” 

Shiro shifted and gathered Keith closer. “I think I like the sound of a new title.” 

 

 

 

Three Years Later

 

 

“You’re packing too much.”

“No, I’m not. You never know what she’ll want.”

“She’ll have it all there.”

“You don’t know that! I was there for the first trimester, remember? She demanded things even I didn’t know existed. Me!”

Ryan sighed and let his head fall against the wall. “Don’t forget the Unalu allspice.”

“The allspice!” Hunk cried, launching over their counter. “You _know_ the stuff Coran has is fake. I don’t know why he thinks he can barter with them. Any of the bartering stalls left are scams at this point.’

“Yes, dear,” Ryan said, watching fondly while Hunk ripped apart their kitchen. “But hurry, the wormhole is opening in three hours and you’re still packing. You know if you don’t leave Iverson is going to make you teach that communications class. The one with Nadia.”

“I know, I know.” Hunk rounded the corner and pressed a kiss to Ryan’s cheek in supplication. “But what about cheeses?”

“ _Hunk_.”

 

Chip beeped next to them.

“Inna minute” Pidge muttered, trying to finish the last screw on the cabinet.

Chip beeped again.

“I said in a minute!” They growled. Setting up their new lab on Altea was a headache and a half, but at least it was research and innovation instead of teaching and grading. After handing their classes over to Hunk, Pidge started worked on quintessence integration and teleduv transportation in earnest. The Garrison was sending them out to Altea so much they gave up and rented a space in the palace for Pidge. The best part was Pidge got the run it solo. Which, incidentally, was the worst part of setting it up.

Chip beeped loudly and continued to until Pidge turned around. “What! What is it you stupid hunk of—oh!”

Chip was holding up a screen displaying the feed from the security cameras outside of the palace’s private wing. Shiro and Keith waved up at them.

“Hey! Let us in!”

 

Lance woke up to the sound of a door slamming. He groaned and rolled over, coming face to face with a large swatch of skin. Allura must have shoved him down the bed again. Sure enough when he tried to move he found part of his midsection was trapped by a pair of legs. His upper body was curled around her large baby bump, head just below her breasts.

He pulled himself away carefully, aware of how cranky she could be when she woke. He couldn’t blame her, she was three weeks out and sick of being swollen.

His self-extraction wasn’t careful enough. Allura groaned and shifted around. “Lance, don’t go.”

“I’m staying right here babe, just.” He wriggled his legs. “Trying to get feeling back into my lower half.”

“Come back to sleep,” she mumbled, turning her face away from the window and the morning light.

Lance was about to settle back down, but the source of the slamming door made itself known through Pidge’s voice. “Shiro and Keith are here, if you’re interested!” They shouted. “Wanted to see you if you’re up!”

“We are not!” Allura yelled. She grabbed a pillow and chucked it at the door. “Go show them your new lab, on the other side of the palace!”

“Babe, come on, they just—Woah!” Lance was yanked back down into his wife’s arms.

“We,” she said menacingly, “are sleeping.”

“Yes,” Lance squeaked, “we are sleeping.”

 

Pidge came back with a shrug. “They’re asleep. Well, _Allura_ wants to keep sleeping.”

Keith frowned. “Aren’t we here because she wanted her family around her for the weeks leading up to the birth? Isn’t that the Altean tradition?”

Pidge sighed. “Yes, but she’s also been testy as fuck. I’d wait if you want that pretty braid intact.”

Keith grabbed his hair, affronted. “Shiro spent an hour on this.”

The man in question snorted beside Keith. “Yeah, only because your hair is down to your ass and it’s thick as hell.”

“I can’t cut it—”

“Until the wedding, I know, I know.” Shiro kissed his temple. “I can’t wait to get rid of those dead ends. Sart’Va oil can only fix so much.”

They chatted for a bit before Pidge left them for the lab, which they declined a tour of. Pidge said they were still setting it up anyway. They could see it once it was in full working glory in a few days.

Instead they wandered to the garden, sitting down on the same bench they had three years ago.

Shiro pulled Keith in, tucking him under his arm. “Is it bad that I’m kinda happy you got sick?”

Keith laughed. “Yes.” He leaned up enough to kiss Shiro’s neck. “But I am too.”

Shiro kissed the top of his head. “I love you, Keith. Nothing in my life would be worth it without you by my side. I’m so glad I wasn’t too late.”

“Save it for the wedding,” Keith said, patting his chest. “But, I love you too, Takashi.”

 

 

 


End file.
